


Living Life Off Key

by JStewie622



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Because our boys deserve better, Elio is ready to put him in his place, Gluten for punishment, M/M, Oliver needs to get his shit together, Oliver's POV, One year post ending, Twenty year is not my cup of tea, alternative ending, poor babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-03-27 18:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JStewie622/pseuds/JStewie622
Summary: Oliver has been living the life that has always been expected of him since he stepped foot back in New York- he'd gotten engaged, got a job as a professor at Columbia University on the fast track to becoming the department head in ten years, and had found a wonderful two bedroom apartment close to work- but he couldn't move on from his summer spent at the Perlman's villa a year ago. His life had become a mind numbing routine of work and delayed wedding plans until one afternoon, he'd received a call from Professor Samuel Perlman. It seems Elio has chosen his college and Oliver's life is about to get much more interesting.





	1. Grief

Chapter One  
_Grief (n): keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss. 1175-1225 Middle English gref, grief < Anglo- French gref._

  
     The words he’d scribbled down in the margins of his next lesson plan didn’t seem to make any sense now that he looked at them in the light of the day. Oliver must have lost all of his wits sometime after the third cup of coffee at three am. Or perhaps he had been deluding himself that he was whole and that there wasn’t still a part of his heart and soul that resided in a villa in Italy. Oliver spent the last three weeks of summer break frantically trying to organize his lesson plans, but even now he spent the first week of classes trying to get his footing. Thankfully he could put on a smile and charm most of his students when asked too in depth questions about future plans that the syllabus did not cover.

  
    “Sweetheart?” Fiona, his oldest adolescent friend and accursed fiancé, popped her head into his office and wrinkled her nose at his ragged appearance. “Did you even come to bed?” She inched her way into the office, reluctant to bother him in a potential brainstorming session, but she was never one to shy away from filling a room with her presence (even if it may be unwanted at times).

  
     Oliver felt irritation rise almost irrationally at her presence- it was the lack of sleep that was the main source of the irritation, but some of it was always there when she came into the his line of vision. It had been there when he’d first stepped foot in America, skin tanned from the Italian summer and a lump in his throat, and she had showed up three hours after he had set his bags at the door and spent most of the time prodding him for answers about his pained, heartbroken features until he had finally cracked and told her he had met ‘someone’. He hadn’t given specifics, but thankful Fiona hadn’t asked for them. Her persistence wasn’t the irritating part- it was that he spent most of his flight home trying to swallow down these emotions, numb what was left of his heart, and her sympathetic smile had brought them all back to the surface. He didn’t want to forget Elio- he never would- but he had hoped he could spend more than a day in America before he remembered that he was torn in two. It had been there when they had their first ‘date’ after three months of Oliver sulking in his studio apartment and she had shown up- in her usual brash manner- and insisted on bringing him out into the world for a reintroduction to the outside world beyond his doctoral paper and heart numbing alcohol. Her mere ability to take him out, sit down at a restaurant seems to irritate him- because he couldn’t.

  
    “No,” his voice came out croaked and he cleared his throat before continuing. “I feel like all my lesson plans just aren’t-,” he trailed off, gesturing frustrating at them as if they would explain themselves and correct their errors.

  
     Fiona smiled- Oliver believed it to be the only outstanding thing about her appearance, it really was a terrible thought for him to have about the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with- and seemed to be in his personal space quicker than his brain could compute. Her manicured hands were suddenly on his tensed shoulders and tried to give them what she thought was a reassuring squeeze. It did nothing to calm him, but it grounded him. His brain had felt like it was drifting away since that last cup of coffee- a local blend from the café down the corner that he had taken to drinking since he couldn’t stomach espresso- and he felt like her hands on his shoulders jolted his brain and made him come back to himself.

  
     “I am just being ridiculous,” he felt sheepish admitting it, “I am just going to take a shower and head to bed for a few hours.” Fiona’s grip tightened and then released once again; it was an empty gesture of comfort because she knew he was beyond comforting. It was one thing he was thankful for- she has been through so much of his growth as a being – that she understood when he was caught up in a problem and knew his mind would be too frazzled to be calmed until he worked out a solution to his issue.

  
     “Just remember, dinner tonight with your parents.” Fiona’s nose crinkled. She was well aware of how much pressure his parents had been putting on him to set a date. Oliver had spent since before Hanukah trying to appease them with enough vague answers about timing and work schedules. Lately, he felt like there were more than just his own reservations that were holding them both back. Perhaps Fiona recognized that the man who had proposed to her had been going through the motions since he had come back from Italy; maybe it had been even before he had been accepted as the graduate student to work under Professor Samuel Perlman for 6 weeks, he hadn’t been entirely living to his fullest extent. He certainly put up a front for his family, friends and classmates. But Fiona had seen him through rough patches- his first brush with the extent of hatred his parents had for those who loved the same gender when he was 12, his first almost failing class in college, and the many relationships that had become between their three years of on and off- and she seemed to understand his need to shove his feelings down and move on. Or perhaps she was just humoring him and needed the reassurance of a secure future to present to her parents on Sunday dinners.

  
     Oliver’s face must have shown his displeasure and Fiona huffed a laugh.

  
      “They are your parents,” she said, both sympathetically and with a touch of distaste. Fiona was, despite her own reservations about his family, their favorite of his significant others. She had long accepted that his mother would always have a silver tongue, one that could be as cutting as it was flattering. His father hardly looked beyond his nose at her, other than to make a comment or two about how her ‘lovely’ (i.e. rich) parents were doing. It had taken him twenty four years, but he had finally opened his eyes to that fact that his parents would never change their minds about anything they deemed intolerable- homosexuality, the poor and unemployed, and those who chose frivolous professions instead of a steady, dependable job were just a few things that were part of Sunday dinners when he had lived at home.

  
       Judge Roland Solomon and his wife Delilah were not people who tolerated anything that went against their very narrow views of the world. Oliver had spent his adolescence cultivating a confident façade- one that he’d used so often that he forgot that he wasn’t actually that person until Elio had broken through it- and had made it seem like life’s harsh reality rolled off his back without affecting him. He put on a smile when he really wanted to frown, had spent too much time with his nose buried in some scripture or another to impress his academically inclined grandfather, and took up a number of sports in high school to cultivate ‘future connections’ with his equally wealthy classmates. Perhaps this was why when Oliver had the chance, he had jumped at going to Columbia University for their Linguistics program. It had been a small rebellion on his part- but he had made his case about becoming a department head by the age thirty and the grumbling from his parents had become only dissatisfied stares. His goals had changed over the many years of college, but he had always known that he wanted to earn his doctorate and give something back to the world for a change. Perhaps imparting knowledge onto the next generation of thinkers would allow him to open the minds of future generations to ideas that they were closed off to right now.

  
     “I know- but perhaps I was switched at birth? It would explain so much.” Oliver gibed as he passed Fiona to head to the shower. He heard her light laugh as he closed the bathroom door. Oliver tended to avoid looking too closely at this features; his tan from Italy had lasted a few months until the New York had seeped it from his skin. He hadn’t spent much time outdoors this past summer and he still looked pale as his did during the long, harsh winter months. He noticed he needed a slight shave and the dark circles under his eyes were unavoidable at this point. Sleep didn’t come easy anymore. Memories of cigarette smoke, apricot tinged lips, and curly hair tangled in his hands always seeped him into his dreams. He usually woke, a lump in his throat and half aroused. He knew how to deal with the latter, but the lump seemed to never fully go away. It lingered and came back at inopportune moments- like when he heard piano notes wafting from one of his neighbors open windows or smelled freshly brewed espresso from his old favorite coffee shop.

  
     Oliver showered quickly and efficiently. He didn’t linger; it would only let his mind and hands wander to things that he wanted to keep shoved firmly in the back of his mind. He was thankful when he shuffled into the bedroom that Fiona had already left for her first class of the day. He found clean boxers and fell face first in their Queen mattress. For once, sleep came quickly.

* * *

 

       It was the telephone that woke him up. It must have been ringing for some time because Oliver had woken up confused as to why his dream had included a shrill ringing. He felt far too comfortable to move, but when the phone continued to ring, he knew he had to answer it.

  
     “Hello,” he croaked, blinking sleep out of his eyes and tried to figure out who would be calling at 2 pm on a Friday afternoon.

  
      “Ciao Oliver!” Samuel Perlman voice crackled slightly over the receiver. Oliver felt his breath catch. It had been a few months since Samuel’s last call, a cursory one in regards to a new find and what it could potentially mean for future discoveries about ancient language. It had been great to hear from his over the phone at the beginning of the summer. It had felt like he had traveled back a year to when his only excitement about leaving the country had been about sheading his shell and embracing a slightly more light hearted lifestyle for a few weeks. Perhaps that is why he had called at the start of May- to give him a gently reminder that they were there for him if he needed them. That all it took was a plane ticket and a packed bag and he could be back at the villa outside of Crema.

  
      “Professor,” Oliver tried to modulate his tone, keep it relaxed when all he wanted to break down. “How are you? It’s a little late for a phone call from you. Have you made another ground breaking revelation?” Oliver loved to tease Samuel- he could never do it with his own father. Samuel had become a mentor and father figure in the six weeks he had spent under their roof. Oliver had felt guilty about not keeping in contact after he had arrived home; but a gently nudge from Samuel via a brief letter inquiring about how he was doing had been all it took for them to take up a semi regular correspondence. Both of them skirted around the subject that they both knew they wanted to talk about: Elio. There were hints in Samuel’s letters- a small mention of accomplishments, an anecdote about an afternoon spent organizing the library with Elio- but beyond that neither had breached the subject of the mutual heartbreak between Oliver and Elio.

  
      Samuel chuckled and if Oliver listened closely enough, he could hear the clanking of dishes in the background, murmuring of female voices. But he didn’t hear what his heart most desired- piano notes or a warm male laugh that made his heart speed up and his own lips turn up involuntarily.

  
     “No, nothing of the sort has come up- but, ah, there is a favor I wish to ask of you.” Samuel’s tone was almost reluctant. “Elio has gotten into Julliard.”

  
      Oliver was glad he had sit down when he had heard Samuel’s voice after he picked up the phone; right now he felt his own legs couldn’t support him. Elio was potentially going to be in the same country-same city- as him? Would there be a possibility that Oliver could be buying coffee and see a flash of Elio’s lean form walking through the crowds?

  
      “Oh?” Oliver felt that perhaps a vague noise would be best before he said what he really wanted to. “Has he decided to attend?” Oliver had a million questions on the tip of his tongue.  
      “Yes. Actually that is why I am calling. Perhaps I am being a, ah, worried father, but I wanted to have someone in the city who would keep an eye? I know-,” Samuel cleared his throat. The topic they avoided was screaming to be addressed. “I know you haven’t spoken since… Hanukah. But it would be good to know he has at least someone in the city that he knows.” Samuel clearly wished to say what should have been said long ago. That Oliver had taken the cowards way out and hid from his feelings. Or perhaps Samuel was actually being a protective and concerned parent and wanted Oliver, the only person he knew who lived in New York City, to keep an eye out on his only child.

  
     Oliver felt the words he desperately wanted to say fighting their way out of his mouth but he allowed a deep breath before he answered, in a tone that was similar to how he had announced his farce  of an engagement to Elio, “Y-Yes I will. Though Julliard isn’t too close to Columbia.”

  
     “Oh, not to worry,” there was a hint of something in his tone. Was it surprise that Oliver had agreed? Or perhaps the mischief that lurked in the Pelman men was making its way out. “He lives close by- unless you have moved since your last letter?”

  
      Oliver felt his ability to breathe leave him for a few moments. It felt like when he had been in fifth grade and had taken a hit to his stomach and had struggled for to suck in air after it had been forced out. Elio had been in the city since the start of term- or longer- and Oliver had wasted hours in his office, hidden from the world, instead of getting a simple glimpse of the person who had inadvertently stolen his heart and soul without even realizing that he had never given it back.

  
     “Would you like a full report Professor?” Oliver’s response was meant to be of a teasing and humorous nature, but as soon as they left his lips, he realized how terribly sexual that sounded. He would blame the lack of oxygen and sleep. “I-uhm- mean do you want me to give you an update when- if I- am able to say hi?” Oliver felt that his self -confidence was taking a serious beating. He hadn’t felt this lost for words since Elio looked him straight in the eye that balmy afternoon in the village square and had said, “You know why.”

  
     He was thankful Samuel was across the transatlantic and not in front of him because he was sure there would be a twinkle in Samuel’s eyes and perhaps a raised eyebrow at Oliver’s waffling. But thankfully Samuel didn’t comment on Oliver’s stuttering response.

  
     “How about just making sure he hasn’t taken to the streets and living in the gutter? Last week he gave me quite a scathing review of the dormitories. It seems Elio’s independent nature does not rub well with his roommate.” Oliver soaked up the knowledge like a dying man in the Sahara desert. This was more information he had heard about Elio’s wellbeing since a brief missive from Samuel a few months ago in a letter stating that Elio had done well on exams and was applying to colleges.

  
     “Yeah,” Oliver let out a chuckle. European culture was certainly different than American. Teenagers and adults alike were brought up in a much more relaxed environment with the hopes that they would develop their own opinions on the world. The Perlman’s certainly had done a great job in helping Elio develop his own persona- even if it was a pernicious, stubborn, and rather independent one. “I don’t know who to feel worse for. That roommate probably has a few bald spots.”

  
      As much as Oliver wished to draw out this conversation, he knew it was almost 9 pm for Samuel and he didn’t wish to intrude on his sleep. Thankfully Samuel seemed to realize the real conversation was being tabled once again- the one that they should have had as soon as he returned home – and rattled off Elio’s current address. Oliver said his goodbyes- to everyone as it seemed that Mathalda and Annella had picked up the other receiver when it became clear Oliver was saying goodbye- and when they both hung up, Oliver dropped his head to into his hands and took several calming breathes. An emotion he hadn’t felt in almost a year rose in his chest- excitement. But it was being held back by nerves, guilt, and grief. It seemed just because Elio was in the same zip code as himself, his brain was telling him that what was rightfully so- that just because he said hello, it wouldn’t mean that Elio would settle for a simple friendship.

  
     A traitorous voice in the back of his mind slyly reminded him that he couldn’t accept a simple friendship either. His inner turmoil was cut off when he heard the front door being unlocked. Oliver plastered a more cheerful facial expression on his face once Fiona opened the door. She looked rather surprised he was sitting, almost huddled on the couch next to the phone, but once she saw the smile he had presented her, she smiled back.

  
     “You seem surprisingly cheerful for someone who has dinner with his parents tonight.” Fiona dropped her bags on the kitchen counter and came back to press a quick kiss on his forehead. She was dressed in her scrubs and smelled of hospital antiseptic and her flowery perfume she had received from her grandmother for a Hanukah gift several years ago. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she was devoid of makeup. It was one of his favorite things about her- she didn’t fuss with her appearance when she knew it would merely be messed up when the first patient threw up on her or she wrestled a particularly difficult patient into taking their medications.

  
     “I just got a call from Professor Perlman-,” Oliver found himself pondering whether he should tell her the reason Samuel called. It was best to be open- at least about Elio being their son and Oliver knowing him from his trip. No reason to start an unnecessary fight when Fiona and Oliver had finally found a groove that kept such fights at bay. “Their son Elio has been accepted to Julliard and Samuel wanted me to pop by and say hello since we met last summer. Concerned parent with their child living in a different country, you know?” Oliver hoped his tone didn’t betray his inner turmoil at the thought of being in the same room as Elio; but if it did, Fiona didn’t comment. She simply dropped another kiss on his forehead and murmured, “Well wasn’t that nice of you. I am going to take a shower. Dinner at five.”

       One the shower turned on and the shower curtain opened and closed, Oliver felt safe to let the lighthearted mask fall from his face. He felt like his heart- the one that had been numb for so many months- was about to beat out of his chest. He caught a glimpse of the address on the messenger pad next to the phone and felt emotions well up in his chest once again- eagerness, hope, and guilt. Would Elio welcome him back into his life after Oliver had made it clear that he wanted him to move on? When he’d made that call in December, he had almost wanted to lie to Elio and tell him nothing of the engagement. Oliver had wanted to beg Elio to tell him to call it off- that Elio would wait for him- but Oliver knew that wasn’t realistic. As soon as he stepped back into New York, the pressures that had burdened him before the trip returned tenfold. His doctorate hanging over his head, his parents persistent attempts to set up with a ‘nice girl’ and the threat to cut him off from his trust fund, and societal norms told him that a relationship with a man- especially one not even able to buy a bottle of whiskey or vote- so, he stamped out the hope that he could just pack his bags and run back to the Perlman’s.

  
     But despite his attempts to shove Elio firmly in the past like he had with his other lovers, Oliver couldn’t completely eradicate his feelings for Elio. Even without being here, Elio persistently planted a place in his brain. It was like any minuet thing that could be related to Elio brought back a rush of feelings and smells he knew he would never be able to forget.  
The shower shut off and he heard the hair dryer start up. Oliver took a deep breath and steeled himself for dinner with his parents. He felt like an exposed wire- ready to spark at any moment. His emotions were too close to the surface and his father would jump on any chance to browbeat his son into admitting that his life wasn’t what he should be leading. Thankfully, he had perfected his confident and cheerful mask around his parents long ago- one night at a restaurant wasn’t going to completely crack it.

  
   Hopefully.


	2. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which poor Oliver's life is upturned in the matter of minutes.

Chapter Two

  
_Longing (n): a strong persistent yearning or desire, especially one that cannot be fulfilled; before 1000; Middle English; Old English langung;_

His tie felt like a noose around his neck. He felt a flash of panic that he would end up by the end of the night on the floor of the restaurant struggling to breathe. It was odd that 6 weeks over a year ago of not wearing a tie would make it difficult for him to wear them again. He missed the freedom of having his first few buttons undone on his shirt, with his sleeves rolled up, and his Star of David freely on display around his neck. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to move on from his time spent in Italy, it had forever changed who he thought he had been. Perhaps that was why he was currently avoiding looking up from his appetizer- he didn’t want his mother and father to look too closely at his face. They could always tell when Oliver had something on his mind if he didn’t take the time to mask his emotions behind a confident smile.

  
He knew from previous experience his mother was still shooting him looks from across the table. He could feel them practically searing a hole through his head. She had made a few pointed comments as they sat down and Oliver hadn’t acknowledged them beyond a few halfhearted attempts to direct the conversation elsewhere.

  
But, Oliver knew any attempts at deferring his mother from discussing the wedding would be pointless. Delilah Solomon was not one to let go of an issue once she, metaphorically speaking, sunk her teeth into it. She had picked up on Oliver’s emotional turmoil when they had arrived at the restaurant and, even after Oliver had waved her concern off, she wouldn’t drop the issue.  
He felt like since he learned Elio was somewhere in this city, his mind was firmly stuck on the thought that there was a slim chance he could have Elio back in his life again. He wanted more than anything to go to that address he had gotten from Samuel and knock on his door and soak in Elio’s presence. Or perhaps Oliver would wait for Elio to appear on the sidewalk outside his residence- as he was heading to school or meet some friends- and just happen to run into him. Oliver could almost imagine the surprise that would register on Elio’s face, perhaps there would be anger and upset as well, but Oliver knew that if Elio felt the same as when Oliver had called during Hanukah then they would work to be- to be something. Something more than what they were right now. Oliver clung to the thought that now that fate had thrown them together, in the same city, so close to each other, that perhaps what they had wasn’t something to be dismissed as a fling.

  
“Are you sure nothing is bother you?” his mother said, false concern in her tone, as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “You have been distracted since we arrived. I was hoping to hear what your plans would be for the wedding- perhaps a December wedding would be wonderful.”

  
Oliver cleared his throat and smiled, as false her concern for his future with Fiona, and said, “Just have been caught up in lesson plans. No matter how much I had prepared for this semester, it never seems enough.” His mother’s lips pursed and she went to open her mouth- no doubt to make an old hand comment about a professor’s salary- when the waiter came over to take their order.

Oliver knew his mother was hoping that his problems revolved around the up and coming wedding- she had never been firmly attached to Fiona- and was probably praying that they had decided to make an amicable split. After almost 6 months since the engagement announcement and no wedding date had been set, his mother was convinced that Oliver should find someone who was ‘willing to settle down’ within a more timely fashion. Delilah was convinced that there was a barrier keeping Oliver and Fiona from taking that next step in their relationship.

She really had hit the nail on the head, Oliver thought with a feeling of amusement, but she wouldn’t be very happy about what that barrier actually was. His mother (and father for that matter) would never fathom their son would have found love with a man. Their views on the world were firmly conservative- men and women were to get married, have 2.5 children, and have a wonderful home they could show off to their colleagues and friends. Oliver had grown up with these values- but there had always been something firmly pushing back against the idea that there was only one type of love. Once Oliver had gotten out from underneath his father and mother’s thumb, he had his eyes open to all types of life styles. Sadly, the values he had grown up into and had been firmly cemented into his brain made it harder to pursue a lifestyle that was outside what society wished them to follow. He had tried to be ‘good’ and follow the path that society and his parents expected of him- but Elio had opened his mind and now there seemed to be no turning back.

Fiona bumped his ribs with her elbow, trying to catch his attention. Oliver caught the look of annoyance on her face and knew his mother must have made a back hand comment about Fiona in some matter and she wanted Oliver to rise to her defense. Oliver placed a firm smile on his face and decided to look up from his appetizer- a rather good type of caviar on top toasted bread. His mother had a fierce look on her face and his father was trying to find the bottom of his glass of whiskey so it could be refilled.  
“How are you mom?” Oliver tried to project a look of cheerful interest. He could care less about his mother’s menial day to day life but he knew if he didn’t start some type of conversation, Fiona would explode. He didn’t need to start a scene when the two strong headed women would inevitably start a loud argument about the marriage plans.

That seemed to be the key to deferring his mother from marriage related questions. The next few moments were filled with chatter of refurnishing their summer home in the Hamptons and charity work she had involved herself in. His father had yet to make many attempts at conversation tonight- but that was for the better. Roland Solomon was a man of little words but when he did open his mouth, it was to cut down his son. He was nothing like Professor Perlman- Oliver wished that he could have gotten even an ounce of the support and love that Elio received from his parents. But at every new decision that Oliver had ever made, his father had a derogatory comment to make about it. It was part of the reason Oliver had escaped to Italy- he needed a break from the pressure his parents had placed on him once he had gotten his degree and had worked toward his doctorate. They wanted him to pursue more than a life immersed in ancient texts- but Oliver relished living in the past and learning of cultures that were far different than the one was currently living in.

* * *

 

Dinner passed slowly- thankfully with no shouting matches or broken glassware- but the longer Fiona and Oliver sat in the restaurant, Oliver felt his blood pressure rising to a critical degree. Fiona was fairing no better. He had seen her on many occasions over the meal clenching her fists under the table and forcing a smile on her face. There was no love lost between her and his parents. But she was from an ‘approved’ family and it was the only reason why his mother and father hadn’t pushed for a better match for their son.

Once they had departed from the restaurant and had said their goodbyes to his parents- handshakes and stiff hugs between the four of them; nothing at all like the warm goodbyes that he had received from the Perlman’s- the cab ride home was silent. He wished he could reach out and grasp Fiona’s hand to offer her some comfort, but he held back. Her hand, soft and manicured, would only remind him that it was Elio’s hands he wished to hold. And right now, with Samuel’s request hanging over his head, he wished to push those romantic thoughts down. He was merely doing a colleague a favor- not trying to start something that would inevitably crash and burn.

As soon as Oliver got the door open to their apartment, Fiona brushed past him in a huff. She dropped her purse on the nearest surface- one of the armchairs in their open living area- and went to their refrigerator. Oliver couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in his chest when he saw her pull out the bottle of wine they had been saving for this weekend.  
“Sorry Oliver, I love you, but your parents are almost too hard to handle,” Fiona said as she poured a generous amount of wine into a glass. She waved the bottle at him as if to ask him to partake in a glass, but he waved her off. She slumped against the kitchen counter, running her hands through her pale blonde hair, and took a rather large gulp of her drink. Oliver felt the words- I love you- hung in the air for a few moments. He wished he could say them back with honestly and affection, but he merely loved her as a cherished friend. They would never be the way she wanted them to be.

And one day, perhaps, Oliver would mean them- he would grow to love her in the way that he should. But right now, with his mind still firmly planted on the idea of Elio and himself, he could only smile at her and sit down at the small island that was in the middle of their kitchen.

“I am sorry Fi, I really am, but hopefully we can avoid seeing them for a few more weeks. School will get busier and I am sure the clinic will need you on more nights. That’ll keep them off our backs for a while.” Oliver watched her face- she was a plain girl, with a rounded face and bright blue eyes but she had always had an easily readable face- and saw something flash across her face that he couldn’t identify. Her emotions were usually never too hard for him to read. He could always tell when she wanted something, when she was feeling particularly upset about something, but right now she was hiding something.

  
Oliver waited a few beats, knowing Fiona was working the courage up to ask something- perhaps about his phone call with Professor Perlman or with his distracted nature at dinner, but then she asked him something that they had never broached.

“Why exactly do you want to delay the wedding?” She looked him boldly in the eye, daring him to look away. She had placed her glass on the counter and had folded her arms across her chest. Her evening attire would be crinkled for sure with how tightly she was wrapped her arms across her chest. “Does this have to do with who you met in Italy?”

Oliver felt his body tense and he tried to find a suitable response to her question. Fiona was his oldest friend and had been his longest relationship- albeit an off and on one throughout college- and she knew enough about him to realize when he was holding something back. It was the reason he had proposed to her- he had felt that if he had to choose anyone else to live the rest of his life with, it could at least be someone who he could grow to love. But he knew it was cheating her out of finding someone who could love her fully- and perhaps that was more selfish an action than what he had done to Elio by loving him so fully and then leaving without giving him any indication that they could have something more.

“Yes.” The words slipped out of his mouth without even realizing it. He felt some sort of relief that he had finally spoken them after so many months of holding them in. Fiona moved forward and sat next to him. She didn’t reach out for his hand, but she simply waited for him to gain the courage to explain.

 

“I- I don’t even know where to start,” Oliver felt like he unraveling now that he had even acknowledged that the ‘someone from Italy’ was what was holding him back. He was terrified if he admitted to Fiona that he had fully loved another man that she would run in the other direction. Because, despite the fact that he didn’t love her as he should, he still valued her friendship. She had been with him throughout many of his highs and lows throughout college and had become a dependable comfort when things had gotten rough in his life.

“Take your time- you don’t have to tell me anything about-,” Fiona faltered, and then said something that shocked him to the core, “about him.”

When Oliver had been young, six or seven, he had broken his arm after climbing a tree and the shock, a sort of calm numb that spread throughout his body, that had followed the crack of the bone when he had hit the ground was very similar to what he was experiencing right now. He felt a cold sweat begin at his hairline and he wondered how she could possibly have known. Had he been more obvious than he had realized? How had she known that it had been another man he had loved?

“H-how did you-,” Oliver stumbled through his words. This time, Fiona did reach out and grip his hand firmly. Oliver welcomed the human contact. She smiled at him, not the response he was expecting, and looked him in the eye again. Her eyes were warm and didn’t hold any of the disgust that he had expected of someone who had grown up in the same social circles as his parents.

“Oliver, I have known you for almost ten years now. I have seen your head be turned by woman and men alike before you even realized it. I waited for you to tell me for a long time, but I didn’t think you realized you were even doing it. Until that guy a few years back- what was his name?”

“Greg,” Oliver said numbly. Greg had been another attempt at understand whether his feelings towards men were a passing fancy or something that he wanted to pursue if he had ever gotten out from underneath the chokehold that society in America held over him. He had met Greg in his second year in college and had a passing fling with him. But he had only introduced Greg to Fiona once when they had run into her at a local college bar and he had felt he had hid from her, and everyone else, that Greg was just a friend that he studied with. Greg hadn’t been looking for anything serious and neither had Oliver. It had been a great experiment but he had hoped the brief relationship they had would satisfy Oliver’s urge to have a connection with another man- until Elio that was.

“You aren’t repulsed?” Oliver chocked out. Fiona scowled at him- the first look of anger on her face since the start of this conversation.  
“Do you really think so lowly of me?” Fiona huffed and took back her hand. “How long have we known each other? I care for you Oliver and nothing will change that. I knew when you proposed to me that you were holding something back. I have waited over six months since then for you to tell me. But I am done waiting. It’ll do you some good to at least be more open with me.”

“Why did you accept the proposal then?” Oliver asked, “If you knew that I was- interested in men as well?” Now that he said it, put it out into the world, the weight that held him down for the last year felt just a little more lightened.

“Ollie,” Fiona said, with a smile developing on the corners of her lips, “I knew that you were planning on proposing when you came back so heartbroken from your trip. You looked like you had ripped your heart out of your chest and now were expected to live that way. We both know we have used each other as a crutch for when the harder parts of life have bared down too hard on us.”

Oliver felt something lift from his chest and he felt a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. For the first time since he had gotten back from Italy, he reached out and clutched her hand. She griped it in return and Oliver felt a genuine smile start to erupt on his face. Fiona had the beginnings of a smile on her face, but there was still some concern lurking on her face. Was she worried that they would lose their friendship? Or was she concerned for the farce of an engagement it seemed they both had been deluding themselves into trying to make it work?

  
“So where do we go from here?” Oliver asked after a few beats of silence. He felt her small, colder hand give his a firm squeeze. She pulled back and then did something that he wasn’t expecting of her- she removed his grandmother’s ring from her finger and placed it firm in his palm.

  
“Let us stop pretending that we are something that we can’t be- I love you as a dear friend and I don’t want to lose that if we go through something that we both do not want.” Fiona was surprising him more in the last half an hour than she had ever in last ten years of friendship. Oliver had assumed she would want to continue the farce of a marriage- to secure a future for both of themselves that wasn’t a hassle for either of their parents. Fiona’s family loved Oliver and had been pushing for them to be married since they had first started their off and on relationship. But, thankfully, Fiona’s parents were genuine in their love of Oliver and liked him for who he was and not what his trust fund could secure for their daughter’s future.

“You tell me,” Fiona got up and grabbed her wine glass- it had been depleted quicker than he had realized. Perhaps she needed something to help her with this conversation- a little courage liquid as they would say. She took slower sips this time and this time Oliver felt that perhaps he should have taken her up on that glass of wine. “We could either continue to be engaged until- what? We get married and spend the rest of our lives wishing for someone else? We don’t have to be miserable Ollie.”

“But,” Oliver felt his mouth go dry, “who I want isn’t exactly- someone who I could be with.”

“Well is he dead?” Fiona arched an eyebrow at him. “Because that should be your only barrier if he cares for you as much as you care for him.”

Oliver shook his head. Elio was most certainly not dead- but perhaps he had moved on. He could have found someone else who was more courageous than himself and was willing to stand by his side both in private and public.  
“No, but the terms we left on, I am worried that he won’t speak to me,” Oliver finally admitted. It was such an odd thing to be discussing Elio with someone else. It felt just as freeing as when Elio and he had spent those last few days in Rome, wrapped up in each other and relishing the final days before Oliver had to depart.

“Well, Ollie, you won’t know if you don’t reach out. Now, if you don’t want to tell me about him right now, I understand. You always did hold your cards close to your chest.” Fiona drained her glass and stepped out of her heals. “Now, how about we watch some useless program on the television? It’ll be good for us to get our minds off of everything.” Without another word, Fiona brushed past him and he could hear the television being turned on in the living area.

  
Oliver was still stuck to his chair, the ring clutched in his hand; feeling like his life had been upturned. Everything Oliver had known seemed to ringing false- Fiona most certainly surprising him with her open minded nature- and she had willingly ended their engagement without a fight. It was like every plan he had made since coming back from Italy had been shattered in a matter of minutes. Without realizing it, he felt tears trickle down his face, but with that a smile began to emerge on his face. He felt the emotions he had been trying to firmly clamp down on for the last year worm their way to the surface.

It seems there might be a chance after all that he could have Elio back in his life- even if it was just a friendship like before. Oliver wouldn’t feel guilty about the feelings would inevitably arise when he caught a glimpse of his face or, heaven forbid, if they hugged when they finally reunited. He would take what he could until he was sure that Elio hadn’t moved on from what they had. Then, maybe, just maybe they could have something more like he had been hoping for since the moment he had seen him for the first time in Professor Perlman’s library that very first day he had stepped into their little villa in Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my lovely readers, I am overjoyed at the responses I have gotten from you all! I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! I was hoping to give you a little surprise with the way this story is going and I hope I have succeeded! Give me a shout out and tell me what you think!


	3. Longing

Chapter Three  
Freedom (v): to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true hopes for a promotion. Middle English, from Old English hopian; akin to Middle High German hoffen to hope

A week passed since Fiona and Oliver had broken their engagement and oddly enough it seemed to improve their friendship. For the first time in almost a year, coming home wasn’t a chore and he didn’t feel like he had to put an act on as soon as he stepped through the door. He didn’t have to force intimacy between the two and it became easier to talk to her. Fiona’s revelation that she knew of his previous relations with men and she was accepting of it had given them a breath of fresh air.

  
Their evenings were spent in front of the television discussing their days and it was nice to be open with her about his plans to work toward publishing another paper. She, in turn, told him about where she really wanted her career to go- to become a surgeon. Originally, Fiona hadn’t mentioned her career plans post engagement and it had just been assumed that once they had gotten married, she would become a stay at home mother. Oliver never pushed for her to take up that role, but he could see that Fiona was resigning herself to become the professor’s wife- going from one university function to another and making small talk with the other university wives. Now that the engagement was broken, Fiona freely brought up work and her ambitions without prompting from Oliver. It seemed that they were more open with each other than they had been in years.

And yet, Oliver was still holding back one thing- Elio. He was the one subject he couldn’t bring to the surface. He still found himself reluctant to put words to a relationship that he couldn’t even begin to explain. Fiona had probed at the beginning of the week- after they had that initial discussion- to speak of that ‘someone from Italy’, but after seeing the closed off expression on his face when she breached the subject at breakfast one morning, she stopped asking.

It was better that way- perhaps now Oliver could finally make the decision he had been waffling on for the last week; he had spent more than a few minutes staring at the address he had affixed to his corkboard. Every time he sat down at his desk, his eyes were drawn to it. He felt almost compelled to trace his handwriting with his fingers as if that would give him a clearer image of what he would find when he knocked on Elio’s door.

He had looked up on a map how close Elio’s student housing was from him- only a fifteen minute walk. If he had an apartment on a higher floor, he could probably see the building from the window. The rational side of his brain, the one that sounded like his father, told him that he should walk away and pretend like he had never received that phone call. Perhaps when Samuel called next time, he would make a general assumption that Elio was doing well and tell the Professor that. But there was another voice, a louder and bolder one- Elio’s voice- that told him he needed to see Elio. To soak in his presence at least one more time; to see if there was at least a miniscule chance they could keep each other at least on speaking terms; or perhaps just one last chance to see if that relationship they had could be resumed.

That last one was probably the hardest to admit to that he wanted. For the last year he had been telling himself that what Elio and he had was just an infatuation due to their close proximity. An attraction based on physical attraction and some mutual intellectual interests. But, there were moments when Elio would worm his way into his mind and he knew it was more than that. One moment he would be in the bookstore, researching new novels to discuss in class and then he would see an obscure novel and would be reminded of how much he wanted to share that with Elio. More than anything he missed seeing the kaleidoscope of emotions that would flash across Elio’s face when he was reading a new novel or transcribing a particularly difficult piece.

Oliver did not want to admit the amount of time he had spent lying by the pool outside the villa and secretly watching Elio as he worked. It had become an obsession of sorts. He tried to see how long he could stare at Elio behind his sunglasses before Elio’s eyes would flit up from his book or his music. More often than not, Elio was in his own world and it would take hours before he’d come up from wherever his mind was immersed in.

But when he did, that was when Elio’s mask came back- all controlled emotions and guarded words. But, some emotion always made its way to the surface in some degree- like the glimmer in his eyes when he thought he was being particularly precocious or the gentle curve of his lips when he fought back a smirk at something he felt triumphant about. More often than not, he was always watching Elio’s body for clues- when Elio was happy he tended to infuse a dance to his step, sliding people to a song only he could hear.

 

* * *

 

Friday night came quickly, which was usually a welcomed thing for Oliver, but he and Fiona had both been dreading this night for the last week after they had made the decision to stay friends. Last month, several of his and Fiona’s old classmates reached out to arrange for an informal celebration for the upcoming wedding. It was a less formal affair than the engagement party they had after Hanukah and New Year’s and more than likely will result in more than a few hangovers and sloppy one-night stands between their single friends. Oliver usually rejoiced in meeting with his old friends and classmates, but he wasn’t sure how Fiona and he were going to explain to every single one of them that the engagement was off. Almost all of them had witnessed the up and down three year relationship Fiona and he had and wouldn’t accept ‘amical differences’ for the reason that they had called it off.

Both Fiona and he had discussed what to say- but they would just have to tell the some of the truth- that they were more suited for friendship than a relationship. They had considered simply calling off the party, but it would be easier if they showed a united front of friendship at the party instead of calling off the party all together and calling their respective friends to tell them of the break up. Perhaps they could stave off some of the questions that way.

Oliver had already had that lengthy and mind numbing conversation with his mother and father over brunch on Tuesday. It had been easier than he had thought- mainly because he kept his mind focused on future lesson plans and not his mother’s attempts to discuss future matches. She’d been sympathetic for all of three seconds before regaling him of daughters of some of the wealthier woman in one of her charity groups. His father, ever the silent disapproving presence, had actually voiced his opinion on Oliver moving to an apartment closer to a better part of the area. He wanted his son to cultivate better connections with future colleagues and felt that where Oliver lived- surrounded by students and elderly- was not the hubbub of the rich and up-and-coming. Oliver simply told them both it had been barely a day and he wished to take a breather from making any future relationship plans. He didn’t even breach the idea of moving- especially now that he knew Elio was only a few blocks away.

And so, after spending most of Friday in a perpetual state of anxiety, both he and Fiona stepped into Frank’s Bar and Grill with clammy hands. He could see Fiona out of the corner of his eye with her hands clutching her purse and forcing a rather fake smile on her face. Their friends cheered when they reached the table- a series of several pushed together in the back corner- and his old dorm mate Aaron got up and gave him a quick half hug and a pat on the back. He could hear the squeals of several of Fiona’s old sorority sisters as they cooed over her dress and how ‘radiant she looked’. Several of his old classmates were quick to join in greeting Oliver with a hug and well wishes before he was pushed into a chair next to Fiona. The bar continued to be loud with the sounds of other patrons, clanking of dishes, and the television behind the bar broadcasting a football game. But it seemed that their table had fallen into an awkward hush- their friends realized that they hadn’t been exactly showing the same level as excitement as the rest of the group.

“Fi,” Fiona’s oldest friend from freshman year, Jane, was the first one to speak up. “Where is your ring?” Almost involuntarily, Oliver’s eyes darted to Fiona’s hands. Fiona was fidgeting, rubbing the spot where the ring had sat for the last six months. But thankfully Fiona didn’t look upset about the lack of the ring- in fact, she seemed to be glad that someone else had broached the subject before either of them had to bring it up.

“Getting it sized I’m sure,” pipped up another one of Fiona’s sorority sisters. “You look so thin!” But it was an empty sentiment- because everyone else’s eyes were focused on Oliver’s face. He must have been showing more than what he realized because there was another muted hush before he finally got the courage up to speak.

“We called it off.” And there it was, Oliver thought. He saw the looks on the faces of his friends. Some faces crumbled with devastation, but most it seemed have a look of resignation. There wasn’t much shock in those faces either- Fiona and Oliver were predicable. Have a great time, last for six months to a year, and then fizzle out without too much of an emotional bang.

“It’s okay- it’s okay,” Fiona’s tone was soothing as if she was placating a child who wouldn’t let her clean their scrapped knees. “We decided we are better off friends.” She looked over at him and squeezed his hand. He flashed her a gentle smile before adding, “it was a mutual decision.”

“But we do have something else we can celebrate,” Aaron finally added after there was a few beats of uncomfortable silence. “I got a job as a paralegal in Manhattan.” Josh, his second year roommate, clapped Aaron on the back and grinned. There were several murmurs of congratulations.

“And I am getting married!” Jane squeaked. She suddenly had a ring on her finger and with that, there were several squeals from the sorority section of the table, Fiona included. She quickly popped up from her chair to join the massive group hug from the sorority sisters. He found himself grateful for the distraction. It had become stifling after their announcement even though it felt like the weight that had been holding him down all week was lifted. He saw Aaron and Josh shooting him concerned looks but he just gave them, for once, a real smile. It seemed to placate them for the moment.

From then on, it was a rush of drinks, bar food, and bar games. He won a few rounds of pool and then lost more than enough of his money to Aaron over darts. He was thankful that the night progressed easily after ruining the engagement party.

Eventually, Aaron pulled him aside. Several of their friends were smashed and he could see Josh and Alex flirting with two young women who had walked in an hour into the party. Fiona was dancing in a drunken sway with several of her girl friends. She looked free- he imagined the way she looked was how he did dancing through the streets of Rome with Elio. Absolute blissful oblivion to everything but what you feel in that moment. He remembered all too clearly how happy he’d felt with Elio, twirling, dancing, laughing and kissing in the open streets.

“You’ve been different.” Aaron was never one to mince words. He was direct and kept his words succinct. It was what made Oliver like his company- when he needed an opinion on something Aaron was the one to give the bluntest and direct answer even if it may be harmful. “You have been for the last year. Something happen?”  
Oliver wished he could open up and tell Aaron everything like he tried to with Fiona. But that long engrained fear of seeing repulsion and disgust on the face of someone who he cared about reared its ugly head. It didn’t help that they were packed in a bar without much sense of privacy.

“Ah, I just realized we were going to make us the type of happy that we deserved.” Oliver said, trying to modulate his tone so that Aaron could hear but not enough that nosier friends would listen in. As much as he enjoyed seeing several of his friends again, many ran in the same circles as his parents and may accidentally spread any untoward gossip right into their ears. He had already spent the last week convincing his mother that he was not ready to move on just yet; he didn’t need her convinced that this had been more than a mutual break up. His mother would turn the world upside down to find the person that had come between he and Fiona- and Oliver wasn’t so sure that his mother wouldn’t uncover Elio in the process.

“Whatever it really was-is-I hope you get it figured out. You’ve just been so lost.” Aaron’s concern was heartwarming. Oliver was thankful for his small bits of support. It was nothing like the Perlman’s- with their open affection and full hearted support- but it was enough to allow him that the decision he’d been ruminating on all week.  
He would finally go that address and face his fears.

* * *

 

The next morning Oliver regretted making that mental proclamation. He hadn’t partaken in too many drinks- just enough for a pleasant buzz, but he still felt the effects when he drug himself to the kitchen for some coffee. Fiona, it seems, had made it halfway to the office (and now her bedroom) before collapsing on the couch. Thankfully there was no vomit staining there carpet next to the bed, but just to be sure, Oliver placed a trash can next to the couch. She didn’t even wake when he started making some coffee with their ancient coffee maker. Its gears spun and spit out coffee like an industrial machine but it still made strong enough coffee to cure the hangover he was experiencing. While it brewed, he jumped in the shower, trying to keep his anxiety under control.

It shouldn’t be this hard, Oliver thought as he toweled off. He had taken a bigger risk that day at the spring near the Alpi Orobie. Just reaching out and tracing Elio’s lips with his fingers had been the most rebellious he’d been since he made the decision to major in Ancient History and Linguistics in college. He had been fighting for weeks his attraction to Elio, hoping it would fade, but it never had. Only grown and made him act in ways that were reminiscent of a school girl with an obsession.

And yet, his hands trembled as he shaved and he found himself pondering whether he should call the entire idea off until next week- or perhaps never. He didn’t know what he would find when he did knock on that door. Would he see the beautiful young man who had taken part of his heart and soul? Or would he find someone who barely remembered him beyond a meaningless fling who had broken his heart with the decision to become engaged to someone else?

When he finally came out of the bathroom,. Fiona was slumped against the kitchen island with a cup of coffee steaming in front of her. She looked absolutely miserable and despite himself, he let out a cackle at her suffering.

“You know we aren’t 21 anymore,” Oliver said as he grabbed a cup of coffee and put a generous amount of sugar in it. It was one of his vices- sugary coffee, poker, and dark curly haired young men named Elio to name a few. That last one he felt was more of a growing parasite that refused to rid itself from his system, but he welcomed it for all the warmth it gave him. “You probably damaged your liver beyond repair in college and now its struggling for life support.”

Fiona flipped him off, a very lady like gesture that his mother would have not appreciated, and said, “You already dressed for the day? Got somewhere to be at nine in the morning on a Saturday?”

“I have a favor to do for Professor Perlman- he asked me to check up on his son,” Oliver said trying to keep any nervous inflection out of his words. He took a sip of coffee before continuing. “I figured it would be the best time to say hi before the day got busy.”  
Fiona was too immersed in her coffee and hang over to look too closely at Oliver’s face. Oliver was grateful for that because Fiona would pick up on his nerves and pepper him with questions as to why this particular meeting was causing him to look like he was about to step on stage without any clothes on. He wanted to keep his past relationship with Elio a secret for a while longer- perhaps with the hope that there wouldn’t be a past tense in regards to their relationship status.

Once Oliver had finished his coffee and lingered the best he could with menial task, he was out the door and heading towards Elio’s dormitory. Each step caused his heart rate to sky rocket and he worried he would keel over on the sidewalk before he even got a word out to Elio. He was so focused on the building- several blocks in front of him- he was shocked when he heard a very familiar voice called out, “Oliver?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was feeling particularly impish when I left the chapter off the way that it was. I know you have all been waiting for THAT meeting, but I needed to get some stuff out of the way.  
> If you all wanna follow me on Tumblr, I only have my main blog @ shamelessbingewatcher22. I try to post prompts when the inspiration strikes me!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, blame my overactive mind but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't leave y'all just hanging like that. If you want to hear about any random ideas/prompts/things that tickle my fancy, come and follow me on Tumblr @ shamelessbingewatcher22! I love to hear from everyone in the comments section about what they think of Elio and Oliver's meeting.

Chapter Four

_Captivate (v) to influence and dominate by some special charm, art, or trait and with an irresistible appeal. First Known Use: circa 1555_

The external force that controlled their lives- God, if you will, or perhaps something else entirely- had a sense of humor. The strings that were pulled to make sure Oliver ended up in this exact predicament were a work of art; he’d been stalling on meeting Elio since that phone call that something else had intervened and made that just when Oliver plucked up the courage to make his way to Elio’s door, he would still be caught off guard when they did meet.

Oliver had at least hoped he would have had a few moments to compose himself, make sure he looked more put together than he felt, and practice a few greetings that didn’t sound forced and terrified.  But, he was sure that his hair was blown all over the place in the fall wind, his jacket rumpled as he had tried to force himself through the Saturday crowds and his lips dry from biting them in attempt to not break down and scream in terror  with each step closer to Elio’s student housing.

Elio had always looked beautiful, but now he took Oliver’s breathe away; he was such an odd contrast to the old buildings and scruffy New Yorkers powerwalking to their destinations. Elio was like one of those ancient statues that Professor Perlman spent so long studying- a mixture of strong lines, defined facial features and lean curves. Elio had always been captivating; his hair a beautiful mess of dark curls, his skin pale despite the excess amount of sun, and many freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. Oliver had spent days trying to decide on the color of his eyes- a combination of deep green intermixed with brown- but they seemed to change as quickly Elio’s emotions did. One day a deep green and the next they held more brown than green.

Right now, Elio’s eyes were wide and his pupils were taking up most of his irises. He was frozen on the sidewalk, a cup of coffee clutched in his right hand and his backpack slung over his left shoulder. Several natives impatiently pushed past them both, making them like a rock in the middle of stream as water pushed past the immovable object, with people on either side of them moving in their own separate directions. There was more than a few curses from the people who had been behind him when he had suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Elio,” Oliver finally managed to croak out. Any other words that he wanted to say were frozen in his chest. There was so much he wanted to say but right now they were escaping him. He hadn’t felt this lost for words since he had first sat his parents down and told them he would be going to Columbia to study linguistics and not law school as his father had always planned for him. Though, right now, he preferred that conversation to the one he was about to have.

Elio shifted his backpack further up his shoulder and continued to stare at him. He finally said something after more than a few awkward seconds when Oliver didn’t say anything else.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” Elio said, his eyes not shifting from Oliver’s face.  There was no sign of distress on his face beyond the initial shock when Elio had called out to him and his tone was even- no hints of hesitation or distress. Oliver’s felt a flash of worry that Elio had, as Oliver had feared, finally moved on from last summer, but then he saw something that gave Oliver hope- Elio’s hands were gripping the coffee just a little too tightly, crinkling the paper cup so that the plastic lid gaped, and he shifted back and forth on his feet as if he were ready to bolt away.

Oliver only hoped that this meant that Elio felt as nervous and stricken as he did, but Elio could just be heading somewhere important and was running late.  

“Yes- uhm, I-,” Oliver, usually so eloquent, found himself stumbling over his words like he had when he made his first speech in fifth grade when he had run for student council. Fiona would have been cackling at Oliver over his stuttering- she had always teased him for his love of words and it was rare he didn’t have the right ones to say.   

Real smooth, Oliver thought, what a great way to make a good impression on his old lover.  Oliver took a breath before continuing more evenly, “Didn’t your father tell you? I got a teaching position at Columbia in the linguistics department.”

Whew, Oliver thought, one actual sentence accomplished. Now just continue the conversation without looking like a nervous schoolgirl in front of her crush and maybe Elio won’t think you’ve somehow lost all brain cells since last summer.

“No,” Elio said, “he really didn’t keep me updated on you since- you know.”

Oliver wanted to know desperately if the reason why Professor Samuel hadn’t kept Elio updated was because he had been hurt at the engagement and not because he simply didn’t anymore. But, Elio’s face wasn’t revealing anything. He’d either become even better at hiding his emotions in the last year or he had not emotions toward him what so ever.

Please let it be the former, Oliver thought. Because right now, Oliver’s emotions were cycling between heartbreak, hope, and an aching need to say whatever he could to make Elio smile at him again. He more than anything to embrace Elio, consequences be damned if others saw, and burry his nose in his hair. He missed the scent of his lavender and chamomile soap and the unique scent that was purely Elio. There were times over the last year where Oliver had been going about his day- working in his office, making dinner, laying down on the couch with a novel- and he’d get a whiff of Elio and ponder whether Elio was haunting him all the way from Italy.

Oliver made the decision right there- he was going to do whatever he could to get Elio to talk to him like they used to- open and infused with such joy.

“Can we talk?” Oliver blurted out.

“Isn’t that what we are doing?” Elio asked a hint of humor on his face and a quirk of his lips.  God, Oliver was struck by how much the little bit of emotion transformed Elio’s face from a statue to this young man who he had met a year ago.

“I meant- somewhere that isn’t surrounded by millions of angry New Yorkers who want us to move.” To make his point, a rushed woman knocked into Oliver’s shoulder and shot him a glare over her shoulder that Oliver dared to be in her way.

“Would your fiance like that?” And there it was, Oliver thought. He saw the resentment in his eyes and some bitterness in Elio’s tone.   Oliver could’ve done a triumphant dance right there with New Yorkers streaming by him and Elio, so damn close to him and yet far enough that Oliver couldn’t make out the freckles that he knew resided on the bridge of his nose, would have probably bolted at Oliver’s lapse of sanity.

“We broke it off,” Oliver said bluntly.  Oliver was done mincing his words and being straight with Elio was the only way he could possibly mend their relationship.

Elio looked lost for words; it was never an issue before so Oliver felt a sense of amusement at witnessing it. The cup of coffee he was clutching almost dropped to the ground as it slid down his slackened hand, but he seemed to catch himself and caught it before it fell.

“Oh, wow. I am- sorry?” Elio said, a question hanging on the condolence over his broken engagement.  He looked like he was fighting back a smile but knew it wasn’t appropriate to smile at a broken engagement.

Oliver waved it off.

“It was mutual.” There, Oliver thought, simple and to the point. But he would have loved to tell Elio it was because his heart had been left in Italy with Elio for the last year and now, with him standing in front of him, he felt that broken piece of his heart finally repairing itself with merely the sight of Elio. Unfortunately this wasn’t the place to have that conversation and quite frankly, Oliver wasn’t sure if he had the right to say such things to Elio just yet.

“So, please, can we talk somewhere else?” And now, Oliver thought, he was becoming a beggar. But Oliver would’ve dropped to his knees and begged Elio to talk to him if that was what it took. 

Thankfully it didn’t take that desperate of step because Elio finally replied, “Sure- yeah- uhm, follow me.”

Was that an actual stutter from confident Elio? Oliver pondered such a change in Elio’s cool façade. But Elio turned his heel and it took Oliver all his self-control to not reach and clutch Elio’s hand to keep up with him. Elio weaved through the fellow New Yorkers like a pro leaving Oliver wondering if it was simply his nerves that was causing him to be such a wreck or if he was just becoming this way every time he was around Elio.

He found himself focusing on his breathing as they walked toward, what Oliver knew to be, was Elio’s student housing. It was a nondescript apartment building with several young adults lingering on the front steps. Several of them waved at Elio and said greetings. Elio waved back with his free hand and finally turned to look at Oliver.

He was nervous, Oliver thought. He remembered that look too clearly before they had slept together for the first time- but right now was not the time to linger on that certain event.  Elio shifted again and said, “This is my student housing- I’ve got a lousy roommate though. He is usually sleeping until noon.”

“Won’t we wake him up then?” Oliver asked confused.

And then Elio smiled at him. It gave him the same rush of emotions he felt when he saw a morning sunrise and both, as it was, were equally breathtaking in their beauty.

“That is the idea,” Elio said impishly.  “He is always stomping around when I am sleeping and I am merely doing the same. Papa said I should invest in an air horn.”

Oliver couldn’t help the laugh that passed his lips. Elio looked pleased at the sound and suddenly made his way to the front door, calling over his shoulder in his usual brash manner, _“Andiamo Americano_.”

Several of the young adults were lingering in front of the building, presumably students of Julliard, smiled at Oliver as he made his way up the steps. There were more than a few appreciative glances from the females (and to Oliver’s shock, some men) and the women waved coyly. Oliver gave them a stiff smile and a nod.

Elio was waiting for him in the lobby when he finally made his way indoors. The lobby looked slightly run down and had a broken chandelier with half its lights out hanging from the ceiling.  Mail boxes with room numbers were to the left of the door and an elevator was directly across the lobby next to the doorway that led to steps. To his left, an open doorway led to a living area with students crowded on couches and old lawn chairs; they were all talking over the television and looked like it was a study session based on the amount of books pilled in their laps and on the table.

“I’m on the fifth floor,” Elio broke the silence again. Oliver didn’t realize how much silence was lingering between them until one of them broke it.

But then, with playfulness that was reminiscent of last summer, Elio made an over dramatic bow and waved him toward the elevator with a sweeping hand motion. Oliver couldn’t help but laugh and saunter past him with an air of fake pretentiousness.  They exchanged small grins and Oliver felt a flash of déjà vu. It was so like Rome where they had been dancing through the streets and ticking each other when one of them had dropped their guards.

But once they were enclosed in the elevator, he felt like he was suffocating in Elio’s presence. They were within a few inches of each other, keenly away of each other’s presence, staring resolutely at the elevator doors, both determined to not look at each other, least they both reveal the cards they held so to their chests.

The doors finally opened and both paused, unsure as to who should go first, before Elio took dominance and strode out of the elevator. Oliver quickly followed behind feeling slightly out of place in the student housing. It had been so many years since he had been in student housing and he most certainly did not miss the crowded aspect of it.

 Doors were open, instruments playing and singing coming from every room, and as Elio passed several of the open doors, greeting were shouted.

It seems Elio is as popular here as he was in Italy. Oliver knew Elio came off as prickly but he gave his affection freely once he deemed someone worthy of it. Oliver knew firsthand how wonderful it was to be a receiver of such affection and warmth from the young man. Several of the students looked confused at Oliver as he followed behind Elio; they were probably wondering why someone who looked like they could be their assistant professor was doing in their dorms.  But they waved nevertheless and he nodded back.

Elio’s door was not decorated like several of the others he passed. It merely had a whiteboard affixed to the door with Elio’s (and his roommates) handwriting proclaiming their names in black marker. Elio didn’t bother knocking to alert his roommate he was coming in, merely fished his keys out of his pocket with his free hand, coffee cold by now, and opened the door.

The room was dark- blinds covering the windows and Oliver could also tell that someone had tapped a black trash bag to the window to make it darker- and he could hear snoring. Elio cared not for his roommates sleep as he switched on the light. The young man, a hefty boy who was only wearing boxers, groaned and tried to hide his head under his blankets.

“Elio, man, I am trying to sleep!” The voice came from underneath the blankets. The lump tried to curl further into the cocoon.

“It’s almost eleven, _stronzo.”_ Elio snipped. Oliver knew enough Italian words to know that was not a loving nickname. 

“Stop saying things to me in Italian, man, I don’t speak it.” The voice grumbled again. “It is my room too! I can sleep for as long as I like.”

“Not if I make enough noise to keep you up,” Elio said, placing his coffee on his dresser. The room was cluttered with old furniture and clothing on the floor- all too large to be Elio’s.  Elio began dropping several heavy textbooks on the floor with all the boldness that Oliver remembered him having. He continued to do it at intervals of every ten seconds while looking at Oliver with an impish smile. This seemed to be a daily battle between the two boys- his roommate didn’t look like one to leave his bed more than for class and food.

The lump finally uncovered its head and realized there was someone else standing in the doorway. The young man, a plain boy with several acne scars and patchy beard, squinted at him.

“Who’re you?” His words were slightly accented- perhaps New Jersian. “You a Prof? You sleeping with a Prof in our room Elio?”

Oliver blinked in surprise. He felt a bit of red developing on the back of his neck and he watched Elio scowl at the young man despite the accuracy of that statement- well at least some of the accuracy in regards to their previous intimate nature.

“No, this is a friend of my father’s. He wanted-,” Elio paused. Oliver realized Elio didn’t know what he wanted and was waffling at what lie he wanted to tell his roommate.

“Books,” Oliver inputted. “Your father sent you with some books I will need for my class.” The young man huffed and shot Elio and him a skeptical look. Finally the young man emerged from the bed, all pale acne ridden skin and large stomach hanging over his boxers. Oliver was never one to judge others by their looks- or lack thereof- so he didn’t flinch at the almost nakedness of the young man.

“Mhmkay dude, just ah- have fun ‘discussing books’,” the young man grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, stumbling into them. Again, Oliver was surprised that the young man did not say this with any sense of disgust only amusement for the possibility that his roommate could be having sex.  The young man- Oliver really should learn his name- grabbed his comforter, wrapped it around himself like a cocoon, brushed by Oliver who was still hovering in the doorway and disappeared down the hall.

Elio gestured for Oliver to come in and once he did, Elio shut the door resolutely behind him. Oliver felt suddenly very aware they were both alone, in Elio’s room, with the only thing breaking the silence was the muffled noises of the other students in the rooms on this floor.

Elio sat on his bed and Oliver felt compelled to sit next to him but the logical part of his brain told him that he should keep some distance. He sat in the rickety chair at the desk on Elio’s side of the room. They, again, stared at each other.

“We broke it off- Fiona and I,” Oliver finally blurted it out. Elio’s face didn’t change except a flight flinch at Fiona’s name. “Last week.”

“Last week? After six months, you both suddenly decided to end it?” Elio questioned.  He wasn’t giving away anything on how he was feeling about the turn of events between Fiona and Oliver.

“She-well-she knew I have been-,” Oliver ran a hand through his hair, “She knew I have been with guys too. And she never said anything.  Until last week when we finally discussed why we had been holding off on the wedding.”

“And?” Elio leaned forward, his eyes suddenly intensely fixated on Oliver’s face. Oliver was struck with how much he was attracted Elio- it was always a surprise every time he realized it. Elio looked like a dream with his dark mass of curls and green hazel eyes dressed in lightweight green sweater and dark wash jeans. Oliver felt his mouth go dry and he pondered whether this attraction would ever fade if he wanted to keep Elio in his life as a friend.

“She doesn’t know specifics about- last year, but she knew…” Oliver didn’t know how to phrase his words. Should he tell Elio he was so damn broken when he returned from Italy that he’d spent most of his time hidden in his manuscript until Fiona had pushed her way back into his life?

Honesty is best, Oliver thought resolutely.

“She knew I had met someone in Italy- but not you specifically, I could never-,” here again Oliver lingered on what to say. “I think the first time I said your name aloud in the last six months was last week when your father called.”

Elio leaned back, surprised at Oliver’s words. And then he said something that made Oliver feel triumphant.

“Me neither. I asked Papa to not mention your correspondence. I couldn’t handle it.” Elio admitted. “I didn’t want to know when you got married or what her name was. I wanted to put you behind me. And then Papa tells me he sent some of my tapes and my transcriptions to Julliard. Next thing I knew, I was here and I just-,” Elio looked frustrated for the first time since they started this conversation. He gripped the hair on the back of his head and let out a loud breath.

Oliver let Elio collect his thoughts because, quite frankly, Oliver needed to let his head stop spinning before he could even say anything else.

“I don’t know Oliver,” Elio said, frustration bleeding into his tone. “I held out some hope that maybe you would come back to Italy and- and something could have been there.”

Elio was always the bolder of the two and it showed when he voiced such thoughts aloud. Oliver had wanted, prayed, that he could have a relationship with Elio beyond the few weeks they had together. He had wanted to write Elio letters about his struggles to finish his manuscript and send him packages with obscure novels he had found in bookstores and to receive tapes of Elio playing with long letters that described his final year before college.

But, it hadn’t played out that way. Oliver had shut himself down after coming home and if he had been bolder, braver, than maybe they could have had that. But he had taken the easy way out- retreat, lick his wounds, and pretend to move on with someone that was considered normal.

“It was stupid of me to think that,” Elio finally said, his voice coming out almost at a whisper level. It sounded thick with emotion and, for once, he avoided looking Oliver in the eye.

Without realizing it, Oliver stood up and sat next to Elio. Elio looked as surprised as Oliver felt that he was suddenly next to him. Oliver didn’t hesitate- for the first time in a long time- and he reached out and grasped both of Elio’s hands in his own.

Oliver loved Elio’s hands- all long fingers and rough calluses from playing the piano and guitar. They were warm and fit almost perfect in Oliver’s larger ones.

“No,” Oliver croaked out. He felt tears come to his eyes. These were the tears he didn’t shed at the train station. When they had parted at B., Oliver had wanted to clutch Elio as closely as he could, to absorb him into his own skin and take him with him and never let him go.

But now, Oliver had another chance to have this beautiful young man in his life and he wasn’t going to let that slip by.

“I wanted that more than anything else and I was a damn coward.” Oliver said fervently. Elio looked at him, surprised at his fierce tone.  “More than anything- I want you in my life again. Even as a friend.”

Elio continued to stare at him, his pupil blown and he could see the pulse throbbing in his pale neck.  Oliver let go of Elio’s hands but continued to soak up Elio’s presence. It was wonderful to be so close to him again; their thighs touching, shoulders brushing and the bed sinking underneath their weight.

“Friends? I think that would be a wonderful place to start,” Elio finally said, his smile finally emerging on his face. He held out his hand and Oliver felt amused as they shook on it. And then Elio surprised him by twisted toward him and wrapping his arms around Oliver’s middle and burying his head in his shoulder. But before Oliver could react, Elio pulled back and smiled, brightly, wonderfully, at him and said, “How about we get some coffee? Mine is ruined at this point.”

Oliver felt a rush of hope and elation.

“I would like that very much.”

 

 

 

Thankfully, the local coffee shop wasn’t too crowded despite it being mid-morning on a Saturday.  Oliver felt much lighter than he had and it must have showed on his face. The barista, a young woman who he had ordered from many times, smiled at him.

“Look at you,” Liz smirked, “you looking like you finally caught the canary.” Oliver was thankful Elio had decided he would find them a seat near the window and wasn’t too close to hear this conversation.

“I just reunited with a good friend,” Oliver said, handing her the cash for the coffee and scones. 

“Is it that cutie over there?” Liz asked. She moved down the counter, pouring the coffee into mugs and gathering the scones up in a bag. Oliver felt his eyes dart over to Elio automatically. Elio waved at him and Liz. He had a few books on the table already and had been flipping through one of them while he had been waiting in line.

“Yeah.” Oliver didn’t even acknowledge her unabashed observation of Elio’s looks. Mainly because he knew how true it was.

Liz winked at him and handed them their order. He was glad he had only ordered the scone and not another coffee. He’d already had enough adrenaline this morning.

“Tell me if you need anything else.” She waved him away and he just shook his head and made his way over to the table.

He sat across Elio and placed Elio’s coffee in front of him. Elio murmured gratitude and took a drink of coffee. He leaned back and smiled a look of contentment on his face.

“I have really been grateful for coffee since I started Julliard- it has been intense.” Elio admitted.

“Oh I am sure you will have no problem once you get into a rhythm. You are so talented,” Oliver said, meaning every word of it. Oliver loved listening to Elio playing last summer- he just seemed to become a part of the instrument he was playing.

“Thanks,” Elio said looking surprisingly abashed.  They sat in a comfortable silence as Oliver picked at his scone before Elio broke the silence again.

“So why did Papa call last week?”

“He wanted to make sure you were okay- it’s a big city and it is your first year in a new country without knowing anyone- well besides myself.”

Elio looked puzzled; it was not the response Oliver had expected.

“Papa must be going delusional. We have several relatives in Brooklyn. In fact, I stayed with them the weeks leading up to the semester starting.”

Oliver couldn’t help it- he laughed loudly. Several patrons looked over at the sudden noise before going back to their own conversations.

“Your father is something else- you say he knows about- us? Well I think this was his way of forcing our hands to finally talk.” Oliver couldn’t help but feel a large amount of gratitude toward Samuel. 

Elio simply shook his head, mumbling something probably uncomplimentary about his father in French under his breath, before taking a bite out of his scone.

“I have a feeling he will be paying for a large international phone call in the next few days,” Elio finally said. Thankfully he looked more and more amused as the minutes passed.

“So what do you have here?” Oliver asked, looking at the scattering of books on the table.

“It is all language and ancient history and I know a guy who could help me out with that,” Elio said teasingly.

“Oh? And what does this guy get out of this deal?” Oliver asked. Perhaps he was flirting a thin line there but he couldn’t help but play out the old push and pull of their relationship. 

“Coffee with me every week?” Elio suddenly looked uncertain. But Oliver simply smiled and said, “Sounds like a deal to me.”

 

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	5. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I know it has been a while since I have updated but I really hope you like the new chapter! I have been trying to get back into my work routine after being out for so long with a chronic illness so that is why it took me so long to update.  
> Leave me a little comment about what you think about how this chapter progressed :)

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Chapter Five

_Friendship (n) a relationship of mutual affection between people_

 

 Oliver woke up on October 1st surprised at the sudden brisk cold that permeated the apartment.  It had seemed like it was only a few days ago that he had his first meeting with Elio at the coffee shop down the street. The days were getting shorter and the weather crisper with each passing day; but Oliver hadn’t noticed either of those things when he had his students to focus on, papers to grade, colleagues to socialize with and, sadly, a large part of his brain was always taken up with thoughts of Elio.  They’d been meeting regularly on Saturday mornings at the coffee shop down the block; Elio was always accompanied with a backpack bursting with books, papers, and his headphones around his neck. Usually Oliver would arrive earlier than Elio, grabbing their usual order of coffee and a side order of fruit, and would pretend he wasn’t anxiously waiting the day that Elio wouldn’t show up. He would bury his head in his never ending pile of papers to grade and keep his anxiety low until Elio showed up.

 

But he always has.

 

Fiona had been bothering him for the last few days to divulge in where he would go on Saturday mornings- but Oliver kept himself tight lipped for the moment.  She could tell something had changed recently and she had been patiently waiting for him to explain why he came home on Saturday afternoons with a barely hidden grin on his face.

 

“Well you don’t smell like sex,” Fiona had mockingly sniffed at him when he had come back last Saturday afternoon. “So what is with that shit eating grin?”

 

“Nothing,” Oliver tried to be brisk and keep his giddiness under wraps. But he could tell he was failing miserably when Fiona just shot him a knowing grin.

 

October 1st was a Thursday and Oliver had never wished for the weekend more than he currently was. Elio had been particularly nervous about a piece he was performing for a mid-semester test and Oliver had promised him a special brunch at an actual diner. Elio had paused slightly at the promise for a special brunch before trying to hide a delighted smirk with a rather cautious acceptance. Oliver had received a note yesterday afternoon from Elio (Oliver wasn’t sure how Elio had gotten his address but was happy that Elio had taken the effort to find it) that simply had said:

 

**Passed with flying colors. Cannot wait to see you Saturday.**

**-E.**

 

Oliver carefully placed the note (and its envelope) in his top desk drawer at home and only pulled out the note a few times last night just relishing that he had some proof that Elio was as excited as he was to see him again.

 

Fiona was long gone for work by the time Oliver drug himself out of bed. He had only an afternoon class today and Oliver was planning on catching up on grading after he gotten a run in. Oliver usually ran four to five miles at least four times a week- but since starting the semester he had gone down to two days a week. It started to make him feel restless by the end of the week when he hadn’t run more than two times a week.

 

Oliver laced up his running shoes after changing into his workout gear- a pair of shorts, a light t-shirt and a lightweight jacket that had reflectors on the sleeves. Oliver had cossets that he tended to listen to when he ran- lectures from highly esteemed professors, a few of his favorite songs he’d recorded off the radio, and, recently,  recordings of Bach that Elio had mentioned he was learning.  Oliver stretched on his front stoop before jogging to the park. He found it harder to catch his breath and steady his breathing than it had been last week, but he pushed on. The burn in his legs felt liberating and kept his mind focused on his breathing and the burning in his calves.  

 

The five mile loop he usually ran in an hour took a little longer than usual. He slowed down after he finished his regular loop and walked along the path that stretched in front of the pond. There were few joggers out on this breezy Thursday morning but the few that were nodded at him as they passed. He had seen several interested looks he received from a few of the mothers pushing their children in their strollers and now that Oliver slowed down to a steady walk, he could see a few working up the courage to say hello. But Oliver was surprised when he spotted a familiar mess of curly hair leaning up against a tree straight ahead of him.

 

Elio was bundled up in a warmer jacket and had his usual headphones over his ears. He was so intently focused on his textbook that he didn’t realize Oliver was right in front of him until his shoes were in his line of sight.

 

Elio looked up at him and there was some flash of confusion over his face before a wide grin broke out on his face. It was a lovely view and made his heart skip a beat. Oliver could see dark circles developing under his brilliant hazel eyes and he looked slightly paler than usual.

 

“Hey,” Elio sounded almost as breathless as Oliver had been a few moments ago when he finished his five mile jog. “Wasn’t expecting to see you until Saturday.”

 

Elio pulled his headphones off and closed his textbook. Oliver plopped down next to Elio and bumped his shoulder against Elio’s. Oliver knew he must have smelled but Elio had spent six weeks in a hot Italian summer smelling Oliver’s body odor when the weather was particularly hard to escape. It was a blessing they were so comfortable with each other and had bypassed barriers that Oliver never had with Fiona or many of his other past relationships.

 

“Just finished my run,” Oliver explained, “and I have never seen you here before.” Oliver was cooling down rapidly and the brisk fall weather was cutting through his lightweight workout gear.

 

“You think I am stalking you?” Elio teased.

 

“Perhaps,” Oliver prodded him in the ribs and Elio twisted away from Oliver, a laugh erupting from his mouth.  “You look- tired?” Oliver wasn’t sure how to express his concern that Elio was pushing himself too hard. Elio was a product of two highly intelligent, dedicated academics and always strove to acquire all the knowledge he possibly could on any subject he was learning.  Elio had spent almost four weeks last summer translating a difficult piece from an 18th century Germany pianist.

 

“I’ve been studying for my midterms and it has been hard with Glen spending most his time holed up on our room. So I have to be creative with finding different places to study- the library is always too crowded and our dorm study area is just as loud.” Elio huffed, looking exasperated. Oliver understood- freshman year at college had been challenging for him as well. Oliver had gone into college with the mindset that he was there to learn everything he needed to find a job in the field of ancient history or linguistic studies.  But his more privileged classmates had goofed off for the first semester and partied harder than Oliver thought possible. Oliver had found he, too, had to become creative in finding quiet places to study. His favorite spot had been an abandoned classroom in the old science building.

 

Before Oliver realized it, he blurted out, “Come home with me- you can study there.”

 

Well shit, Oliver thought. His self-control really diminished when he was in Elio’s presence.  Elio looked as stunned as Oliver felt, but he surprised Oliver when Elio said, “Yeah. That would be great.”

 

“Great,” Oliver parroted back. He involuntarily smiled at Elio before getting up and offering Elio a hand up. Elio gripped his hand and Oliver helped him up- he really didn’t weigh that much. Oliver almost wished he didn’t have to drop Elio’s hand but he could almost feel the stares of the women he had seen earlier on his run.

 

“Besides, you look cold,” Elio said as he packed up his backpack.  “Wouldn’t want you to go to your class with frostbite.”

 

Oliver pocked him in the ribs again and Elio didn’t even attempt to dodge the prod. He actually leaned into Oliver’s touch and bumped his shoulder against his arm. They walked in silence- hands brushing against each other’s and a feeling of electricity developing with each step closer to Oliver’s apartment.

 

“So this is where the infamous Oliver Solomon lives,” Elio said, admiring the old brick stone front.  Oliver felt a flash of insecurity at the slightly worn in look of the apartment building. Elio had grown up in a wealthier family who owned several homes across Europe and had never wanted for anything; but thankfully Elio never showed signs of snobbery when it came to his wealth. Elio simply accepted people as they were.

 

“It is only a few blocks away from Columbia- makes the commute really easy.” Oliver said, opening the front door for Elio to walk through.

 

“Thank you kind sir,” Elio gave him a wide smile as he walked in the front door. The lobby was just as worn in as the front of the building, but was well maintained by the super. It was always clean and had several indoor plants in the corners of the room. He had an elevator and a stairwell that smelled of fresh paint when maintenance had put a fresh coat of paint on the walls and resealed the stairs. Oliver usually took the stairs to keep fit and it also did not hurt that he was only on the sixth floor.

 

“Stairs or elevator? Don’t want you keeling over on me before we get to my floor,” Oliver teased. Elio simply rolled his eyes and brushed past him to the doorway to the stairwell.

 

“I’m not as old as you, _Americano._ You, however, are closer to needing a cane than I do.” Oliver had missed Elio’s gentle ribbing.

 

“I am only twenty five,” Oliver squawked.  “I am not old enough that I can’t beat you up these steps.”

 

It was a split second before they were both bolting up the stairs. Oliver’s longer legs held an advantage over Elio- but Oliver was breathless after the second floor landing. His run made his legs burn quicker than they usually would. 

 

“What floor are you on again?” Elio sounded breathless and Oliver glanced back at Elio. He had the same mischievous look on his face that he had over the summer when they rolled around tickling each other, trying to outdo each other in how much laughter they could cause the other to erupt into.

 

“Sixth.” Oliver’s legs trembled at the fourth floor landing and Elio bypassed him quickly. He was surprised when Elio had managed to reach the sixth floor landing- but almost ran into his neighbor Mrs. Braveman. The elderly woman shot Elio a perturbed look but Elio quickly apologized, “ _Scusa_ \- sorry ma’am.”  She was quickly enchanted with Elio’s apologentic smile and his use of Italian.

 

“Hello Mrs. Braveman,” Oliver said, breathlessly, as he reached the sixth floor landing. ‘H-how are you today?”

 

“Good, Oliver dear. And who is this lovely young man?” Mrs. Braveman smiled at them both. She was clearly on her way to her own apartment after using the fifth floor laundry. She had her laundry bag clutched in her hand and looked not too ruffled that her neighbor was red faced and half hunched over after sprinting up the steps.

 

Oliver didn’t have an answer to who Elio was to him, but thankfully Elio did.

 

“Oliver is gracious enough to let me use his apartment to study.  He used to intern with my father and we’ve kept in touch since then.” Elio held the door open for Mrs. Braveman and she murmured her thanks as she shuffled past. It gave Oliver the seconds he needed to catch his breath.

 

Mrs. Braveman shuffled to her apartment door and waved goodbye at Oliver and Elio.

 

“Good seeing you Oliver dear and nice to meet you...?” Mrs. Braveman realized she didn’t know Elio’s name.

 

“Elio Perlman,” Elio supplied for her.

 

“Elio- I’m Greta Braveman. I hope to be seeing you again soon.” She winked at them both and disappeared into her apartment.

 

Elio shot Oliver a bemused smile and Oliver pointed to door at the end of the hallway. It was one of the larger apartments- taking up a large corner of the building and was the size of two of the other apartments on the floor. Oliver had been lucky to get such a great deal on it- mainly because he was a college professor and the owner of the building was a Columbia graduate.

 

Oliver felt a flutter of nerves in his stomach as he fumbled for his keys. He wasn’t sure if Elio felt the same rush of nerves at the thought of being alone together for the first time in almost a year but a quick glance at him told Oliver that he was. Elio had the same nervous crinkle to his forehead he had before they’d slept together for the first time. Oliver felt a flash of heat down his spine at the mere passing thought about that night but he knew he needed to get a firmer grasp on those emotions- Elio was only here to study and Oliver had a large stack of papers that needed to be graded by next Tuesday.

 

Oliver opened the door and immediately spotted the unwashed dishes in the sink and several cups on the side tables in the living area. Elio didn’t comment- he simply looked around once he stepped in the door and dropped his bag next to the couch.

 

“Cozy,” Elio said, plopping down on the couch.  “I like it.”

 

Oliver hovered briefly in front of the closed door before offering Elio a glass of water.  Their hands touched briefly when Oliver passed him the glass and that electricity Oliver had been feeling earlier shot down his spine. Elio looked similarly affected but he masked it by taking a sip of water.

 

“I’m-uhm- going to jump in the shower. Just-uh- shout if you need anything.” Oliver felt awkward leaving Elio alone in his living room. But Elio looked at home already by opening his back pack and spreading his books and papers across the table in front of their couch.

 

His shower was anything but relaxing- the entire shower was spent thinking about Elio only a room away and himself, naked and wet in the shower. But thankfully Oliver had the foresight to make his shower a cold one in hopes it would cool down the heat that was building in his belly with every second he and Elio were alone together.

 

By the time Oliver was dressed and hair already drying, Elio was deeply immersed in writing something in a worn notebook. His textbooks were all highlighted and Oliver could see Elio’s familiar scrawl in the margins.

 

“Doing okay?” Oliver broke the silence. Elio jumped and let out a little chuckle at being caught unaware.

 

“Yes- this is wonderful. I have already gotten so much more work done than I would have in the park.”

 

“Great, uhm, I am going to just- grab my papers and I will join you.” Oliver grabbed his stack of papers from his desk and joined Elio in the couch. He was careful to keep space between them. Elio gave him a courtesy glance, a slight smile playing on his lips, before focusing his full attention on his work.

 

It was quiet except for the sound of scratching paper and deep breathing from them both. Oliver still felt acutely aware of Elio’s presence. It took all of his mental effort to not slide down the couch and bury his head in Elio’s hair- perhaps kissing the crown of his head; lightly touching Elio’s jaw, turning Elio’s face in the direction and- and- his brain seemed to short circuit at the thought of what would be the next step.

 

Before Oliver knew it, an hour had passed. Elio finally looked up when their clock chimed for one o’clock.  He rolled his shoulders and lifted his arms behind his head. Oliver caught a flash of skin as Elio’s shirt rode up, revealing the patch of skin on his back between his shirt and his boxers. Oliver felt a flash of heat spread from his belly throughout his limbs and he cursed himself- it was like he was a horny teenager yet again and couldn’t keep his hormones under wraps.

 

“When is your class today?” Elio asked. He finally looked straight at Oliver- firmly and boldly in the eye like he used to.  It was almost like a challenge- daring Oliver to look him in the eye as well.

 

“Four. Thankfully I have them taking a test today- several of them are getting far too cocky.” Oliver grinned.

 

“Ah now it makes sense- professors use tests to knock their students down a few pegs.” Elio said with a smirk.

 

“It prepares them for the real world- this is insider knowledge. Don’t spread it around or there will be riots.” Oliver pointed at Elio firmly with a teasing smirk.

 

“Oh, don’t worry. I know how to keep a secret,” Elio smirked at him.  

 

They naturally drifted closer- not even realizing it before they were merely inches apart. Oliver could see the freckles clearly on Elio’s checks. They were lighter than they had been last summer but his eyes still shown just as bright. Oliver felt himself drifting closer, his hands coming up to rest on Elio’s thighs, and Oliver was so close he could hear the hitch of Elio’s breath.

 

Oliver wanted to lean into Elio, running his tongue over Elio’s lips just as teasingly as Elio had done during their first kiss, before pressing his lips to Elio’s. He wanted to grip the sides of his face and nestle his hands in Elio’s curly hair.

 

But the front door jiggled and Fiona was opening the door. They sprung apart- as if they had been doing the things Oliver wanted to so desperately do. Fiona looked startled at first at seeing someone new in their apartment before smiling widely at them both.

 

“Well hello Ollie. Who is this?” Fiona had a twinkle in her eye and a wide grin on her face. Her scrubs were ruffled, her hair braided with pieces sticking out, and she looked utterly in contrast to Elio’s lovely put together appearance.

 

“I’m Elio- Perlman.” Elio stood up and offered her his hand.  She shook it firmly and gave him an assessing look.  She seemed to not find him lacking and shot Oliver an approving look.

 

“So you are the Professor’s son- your father is well spoken of in this apartment.” Fiona dropped her bag the front door and almost chucked her shoes off her feet.  Elio seemed to find Fiona amusing and smiled at her as she seemed to collapse seamlessly in the recliner near the window.

 

“And you are?” Elio cocked his head and looked over at Oliver in confusion. Oliver realized in the last few month that he had told Elio about Fiona in abstract- that Oliver and her had broken up and continued to be friends, but not that Fiona still lived with him. Oliver felt a flash of panic that Elio would be angry at the fact that he was still living with Fiona.

 

“Fiona Reed- ex-fiancé, current best friend and current roommate of Oliver until I can find something better.” She winked at Elio and let her hair out of its barely confined braid.

 

Oliver watched Elio’s face closely but Oliver didn’t see any flash of anger, only a look of bemusement at Fiona’s blunt nature.

 

“Enchante,” Elio said.  There was a long pause before Oliver finally broke the silence.

 

“How was work?” It was a safe topic to start with, Oliver thought.  The space between Oliver and Elio felt noticeably too large and Oliver knew Fiona would notice it.  But she still seemed too focused on examining Elio to notice Oliver’s tense shoulders and clammy hands.

 

“Well…” Fiona started, “You wouldn’t believe what happened today.” Fiona began a rant that had Elio hunched over his spot on the couch, laughing silently with tears streaming down his face at several points during her story. Oliver felt himself relaxing after a few minutes into Fiona’s story. He even laughed along with Elio at several points.

 

“So what have you been getting up to today?” Fiona finally asked after she finished her story.

 

Oliver simply picked up a paper, mostly red with his many notes about the student’s syntax and half-assed research into the topic, and waved it at her.

 

“Ah,” Fiona wrinkled her nose. “Looks exciting.” She winked at Elio before continuing, “Just don’t torture those students too much. They already have to see your ugly mug every week.”

 

The clock chimed half past and Elio sighed.

 

“Sorry, Oliver, Fiona, but I have a class at two and I need to get going.” Elio started to gather his papers and books up. He shoved them into his backpack and stood. Oliver found himself standing as well.

 

“Let me walk you out,” Oliver said, not wanting Elio to leave even though he knew it would have inevitably happened. He could see Fiona’s face, scrunching up in confusion at Oliver sudden polite offering to walk Elio out, but thankfully she kept her thoughts to herself.

 

Oliver shoved his shoes on and followed Elio out the door. There was silence as they walked down the six flights- Oliver realized that Elio had felt that electricity between the two of them before Fiona had walked in.  Elio seemed to want to keep some distance between Oliver and himself- perhaps to keep his feelings from being hurt again.  

 

They reached the front door of the apartment complex and Elio surprised Oliver with a brief hug. It was brief enough that Oliver felt only a flash of Elio’s warmth and the smell of Elio’s shampoo but not long enough for Oliver to feel satiated. Oliver didn’t realize how much he missed Elio’s touch until he got that small taste of it.

 

“We still meeting Saturday?” Elio asked- with a touch of nerves in his tone and not looking him directly in the eye as he posed the question.

 

Oliver couldn’t help himself- it was like he was a man desperately needing a sip of water after spending days without a drop of it- and he reached out and tiled Elio’s chin upward. He made sure to make direct eye contact with Elio and let his hand drift back to the back of Elio’s neck. 

 

“Of course,” Oliver said. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He allowed his hand to linger on the back of Elio’s neck, feeling Elio’s pulse quicken under his hand, and there was that familiar electricity between them.  Elio didn’t move, keeping his eyes on his face, eyes drifting down to Oliver’s lips before a slight smirk erupted on Elio’s lips.

 

“That’s good- because I have a surprise for you that I think you will like.”

 

With that, Elio shrugged off Oliver’s hand and moved out the front door. As the door closed, Elio called out:

 

“Later.” Elio deliberately drawled out the word and winked at him over his shoulder. Oliver couldn’t help but laugh before calling after him, “Later.”

 

If Oliver had been impatient for Saturday when he had woken up, then right now, Oliver was even more desperate for Saturday to come. Oliver could only guess what Elio had planned for Saturday, but if Oliver knew Elio at all, it would certainly be an interesting experience.


	6. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elio and Oliver finally have their day out

Chapter Six  
Surprise (v): to cause somebody to feel sudden wonder or amazement, especially at something unexpected

 

Oliver stood in the lobby of his building in a trance after Elio disappear up the street. Oliver felt his heart still beating firmly against his chest as if he’d just run his usual five mile loop in half the time. Oliver hadn’t felt this giddy since that first (and second) kiss Elio and he had shared at the berm. After those kisses, his body had hummed with such excitement and it had taken all his self-control to not draw Elio back in. And right now, in his slightly rundown apartment building lobby, his body was humming just as loudly- he wanted nothing more than to run after Elio and draw him close.  
“Oliver, dear,” a voice said behind him. “You’re blocking the door.” Oliver almost jumped in shock. He’d been so focused on his inner thoughts; he hadn’t realized that he’d been firmly glued in front of the apartment building door. 

“Sorry,” Oliver muttered, looking at Mrs. Doran and giving her a sheepish smile. “I don’t know where my head was at.”

Mrs. Doran merely gave him an amused smirk and shook her head at him as she shuffled by. Oliver felt a flash of paranoia- could Mrs. Doran know suspect something untoward about Oliver and Elio- the student who wasn’t actually his student. Had she seen Elio and Oliver’s goodbye exchange? Or was it just the evident that Oliver was pining after Elio like a school girl with a crush. 

Then, miraculously, as if Mrs. Doran could read his thoughts, before she finally shuffled her way out the apartment building onto the steps, she asked, “Will that lovely Italian boy be coming back? He was so polite. Much nicer than my grandson’s friends.” Oliver had met Mrs. Doran’s grandson (and accompanying friends) when she had moved in and she wasn’t wrong. 

“Y-Yeah, I think he will be.” Oliver felt an involuntary smile play on his lips at the thought of Elio being back in his home- in his life- at a regular basis. 

“Good.” Mrs. Doran gave him another shrewd look and then let the apartment door close behind her as she slowly shuffled her way to the sidewalk. 

Oliver knew he couldn’t linger in the lobby any longer and made a slow descent up the stairs. He was half hoping Fiona would drop the subject of Elio before it even came up but she was like a stubborn dog that wouldn’t let go of its new bone when it came to something she really wanted to discuss. She would make every attempt possible to discuss the subject, with constant pestering and some not so gentle reminders, until she finally broke him down. Just the fact that Oliver had another male, someone Fiona had never met before, in their apartment would have been enough for Fiona to pester him for answers- but Fiona knew him well enough to have probably seen the look of adoration on his face (he wasn’t even going to try and deny that he hadn’t been staring at Elio with open adoration when Elio had been focused on Fiona’s work story) when he looked at Elio. Hell, he’d walked him to the apartment building door like a chivalrous date saying goodnight at the end of a date. He didn’t even do that with Fiona when they had first dated during college. 

When Oliver opened the apartment door, Fiona was standing in their kitchen, stirring something in a pot on the stove. From Oliver’s experience with Fiona’s cooking, it was probably some form of pasta. It was the one meal that Fiona had mastered after almost eight years of living on her own. When Fiona didn’t even look at him when he shut the door, Oliver found himself thrown by the uncharacteristic silence. Where were the constant questions? The raised eyebrows and hands on hips? The browbeating him into answering?   
“Pasta, I presume?” Oliver finally broke the silence. He found himself shuffling over to kitchen, almost involuntarily drawn in by her reticence, and taking a seat at the kitchen table. When Fiona finally turned away from the pot, she had a carefully blank expression on her face.

“Mhmm,” Fiona hummed with the air of someone totally disinterested in starting conversation. She took a careful sip from the glass of wine she had on the counter and leaned against the counter without even looking directly at him. She examined her finger nails as if they were the most interesting thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. And then, when she finally deemed it worthy, she looked at him. But, then in a move that made him ponder whether she had become abducted and replaced with a pod person, she simply kept silent and looked at him.

Oliver stared back at her and let a few beats of silence hang in the air before he finally said, “Would you like to talk?”

Fiona raised an eyebrow at him. 

“About?” Fiona took another sip of her wine and eyed him like he was proposing that they go skydiving off the Empire State Building. 

Oliver drummed his fingers on the kitchen table and stared at Fiona for a few moments. The silence was far too confusing and not Fiona’s MO.

“Elio,” Oliver said almost involuntarily. It seemed Oliver finally said the right thing because Fiona’s face lit up and she looked more animated.

“Only if you wish.” But Fiona finally looked more like herself- animated and ready to talk his ear off. It seems this was her plan all along; she wanted to wait until he opened his mouth and started the subject before they could discuss it. It was clever that Fiona had compelled Oliver to start the conversation without her even having to open her mouth by acting so disinterested. 

“That was- Elio, uhm,” Oliver didn’t really know how to start. He wasn’t one to discuss his feelings about another human being. He had a hard enough time trying to figure out his own emotions and then admitting them to himself; admitting his feelings about Elio aloud made them all too real and even more terrifying. 

“Yes, Elio- he is a quite lovely. Where did you meet him?” Fiona asked. She had gone back to stirring her pasta and keeping her gaze focused on the pot. She had been in Oliver’s life long enough to understand his emotional constipation. 

“Italy.” There, Oliver said it. He knew Fiona would connect the dots. Oliver could almost see when it hit Fiona- her back tensed, she paused her stirring and then she finally turned, with the plastic stirrer still clutched in her hand as it dripped hot water on the kitchen floor and her eyes were almost larger than half dollar coins. 

“Italy- is that who I think it is?”

Oliver could cop out and say Elio was simply the son of Professor Perlman, a man who also resided in Italy, and nothing untoward or romantic had ever happened between the two but Oliver didn’t want to hide any longer. He had hid so much of himself away for so long and now was not the time to do such a thing- not if he wanted to become the free person he had been so briefly during his six weeks in Italy. 

“Yes.” Oliver couldn’t bring himself to say anything further but it was enough for Fiona. She squealed and almost let her pasta boil over in her excitement. She quickly turned off the burner and moved the pot to the sink. But, instead of draining her pasta, she simply kept it in the sink and plopped herself down next to Oliver. Her eyes were wide with interest and she was leaning in close- ready for a gossip session as if Oliver was one of her girlfriends who had gotten a new boyfriend. 

Oliver merely raised his eyebrows at her.

“You think I am going to gossip with you?”

Fiona scowled, though her excitement was still evident in her face, and said, “At least tell me more about Elio- he looks young Ollie.” 

It was the one sore spot Oliver didn’t want to touch on. It was Elio’s age that had made him hesitant a year ago; he hadn’t wanted to traumatize Elio from any future relationships by despoiling his understanding of intimate relationships. Not only that- there was the age gap of seven years and how further apart they were in their lives; Elio barely beginning college and Oliver finishing his graduate studies. But, thankfully, Elio was mature- sometimes more than himself- and had a widely developed understanding of the world; his parents had raised him with an open mind and took the time to make Elio feel that his opinions were valued and free to express. 

“He is- just started his first year at Julliard.” Oliver kept his eyes focused on the lock of hair that had come undone from Fiona’s hair clip. It was tucked behind her ear and curled slightly at the end. He couldn’t bear to look directly at her face; he didn’t want to see the look of revulsion on her face at the realization of how young Elio was. 

“Ollie- Oliver- look at me,” Fiona said sternly. Oliver finally met her eyes and was only met with a look of annoyance. “He is young- but is this something you both wanted? Was this more than a passing fancy during a summer away?”

“Of course,” Oliver said irritated and with some level of defensiveness at the relationship that Elio and Oliver had shared. Oliver had held out for weeks, trying to keep his own growing feelings under wraps, when Elio had finally admitted to him that he had wanted something more than their odd friendship. 

“Then I’d like to get to know the person who seems to make you lose all those walls you have built up over the years.” Fiona reached out and squeezed his hands briefly before getting up to drain her pasta. Oliver felt some sense of relief at Fiona’s acceptance of the relationship that Elio and Oliver had- and might continue to have if all went well. It was one of the hurdles that Oliver was hoping to clear and, even though there were many more, it made the thought of continuing to pursue an actual relationship with Elio that much more easier. 

The next day and half passed quickly. Oliver tried to keep himself busy with grading papers, planning future lesson plans, and starting on his next manuscript for a future book on Ancient Greek’s evolving sexuality as shown through their philosophers. He’d been grateful for the time spent last summer with Prof as it had helped him find a focal point for him to propel his writing. It struggle to find a publisher who would take on his proposal for his first manuscript (a series of academic papers on the downfall of Ancient Greek and Roman academia) but, when he had found a publisher who would take on his book proposal, she had pleaded with him to learn how to connect to his writing on more than a clinical level. So, when he’d gotten home from Italy and Oliver’s writing had taken on a more emotional tone, his publisher had been delighted. Even though the subject was not something Oliver was personally emotional about, it had been enough to give his book the emotional tone that readers needed to be able to connect to such a topic. 

Oliver was finally reaching a groove in his writing early Saturday morning when the buzzer for his apartment rang. Oliver jolted in surprise, glancing at the clock, and realized it must be Fiona who had forgotten her keys. She’d left early last night for an evening shift and probably left her keys in one of her older scrubs. 

So, it was quite a surprise when he answered the door, about to huff out a quip at Fiona for losing her keys, and froze when he saw Elio standing there. He looked amused and, surprisingly, hesitant. But, beyond his quirked lips and slightly hunched shoulders, Elio looked wonderfully bundled in a deep green sweater and light wash jeans. Oliver became all too aware of his old stained shirt and raggedy sweatpants when Elio’s eyes darted up and down his figure. 

“So, did you forget the day or have I been forgotten already?” Elio’s tone was teasing and light but his brows scrunched together in concern nevertheless. 

“No-no- come in,” Oliver waved him in the apartment and stepped aside to allow Elio in. Oliver shut the door quietly behind him as his neighbors were probably all asleep at six in the morning. 

“I wasn’t expecting you here so early- aren’t you a college student? Sleep until noon and up until the early hours?” Oliver couldn’t help but tease Elio back. He knew that Elio was not the sort to sleep all day but he’d been surprised to see him here at such an early hour. Even Oliver usually slept in on weekends; this weekend he’d been merely too excited to finally see Elio again and his nights were spent tossing and turning as both excitement and anxiety took hold of his mind. 

“Not when I have such an interesting day planned,” Elio said as he plopped down on the living room couch. His backpack had been traded for a messenger bag and it looked filled to the brim with supplies.   
Oliver couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. 

“Would you like some coffee while I shower?” Oliver offered. His coffee maker was working overtime since he’d gotten his pages back from his editor and he’d been working on revisions. The pot was currently filled to the brim with recently made coffee.

“Yes- to both,” Elio teased. “You definitely need a shower.”

“Just for that- you can get it yourself.” Oliver shot back and quickly made his way to the bathroom. Elio’s indignant facial expression as Oliver closed the bathroom door made him laugh. 

He quickly showered and spent far too much time trying to make his hair look suitable for an outdoor excursion. He felt like a teenaged girl primping before a first date. He couldn’t find any hairstyle that made him happy and his slight scruff was shaved off after he realized he looked much older with it. 

With his robe fastened, Oliver stepped out of the bathroom and caught sight of Elio examining his bookcase in the living room, a cup of coffee grasped in his hands, and Oliver’s chest fluttered. Elio turned and simply stared for a few seconds before smiling widely at him.

“Your book collection is wonderful- my father would love to read several of these.” 

“Well he is certainly open to borrowing a few if he comes to visit,” Oliver offered. “Let me get dressed.” Elio seemed to pause with his mouth slightly open as if he’d meant to say something before turning back to the bookcase with a slight shake of his head. 

Oliver quickly made his way into his bedroom, pondering what Elio had meant to say before holding himself back, before he could say something that would break the tenuous friendship that they had formed. Oliver felt like he was always stepping close to a line that Oliver and Elio were both too afraid to cross. Oliver knew if he had continued on that line of conversation- parents visiting or getting dressed (more likely turning to how he’d rather be undressed with Elio)- then the day that Elio had planned would turn awkward. 

At a glance outdoors, Oliver decided to dress in a warm sweater and jeans. He made sure to grab his jacket so he could place his keys and wallet in the pockets. He brushed his hair once more and styled it into a more manageable appearance. His hand paused over his cologne and then, with an impulse that came from his secret inner giddy teenage self, spritzed some on his neck. He wore cologne in serious settings- school, meetings, and dinners with his parents- but he felt that today would be a good day to wear it. 

“Ready to go?” Elio asked as he tapped on his bedroom door. He peaked his head inside and looked around. His eyes lingered slightly on the rumpled bed sheets and Oliver’s clothes spilling out of the closet. Oliver was glad that Fiona had moved her belongings to the guest bedroom several months back- it would have upset Elio to see Oliver and Fiona sharing a bed after Oliver had already told him that they’d broken off the engagement. 

“Yeah,” Oliver replied. “So where are you taking me again?”

“Oh, it won’t be that easy to get it out of me.” Elio wagged a finger at him. “Now let’s get going- we are burning daylight.” 

 

 

Elio had planned out a surprisingly in depth adventure. Oliver wasn’t surprised that Elio had spent the last few months learning every nook and cranny of this city. The morning started out with a breakfast in a small café. It was full of bright morning light streaming through the windows; the food was wonderfully made and Elio had charmed the barista to give them an extra scone. Oliver couldn’t help but admire Elio’s curly hair lit up by the morning light streaming by the window and he’d almost spilled his coffee when Elio caught him staring for too long. The blush that spread over Elio’s cheeks made Oliver try to hold back a wide smile. 

Elio then proceeded to be dragged to several used bookstores and they’d both found several used books that Oliver could use for next year’s classes. The moment Oliver’s hand brushed Elio’s when they both found a book they liked, electricity jolted through his body. 

‘Damn it Oliver,’ Oliver scolded himself. ‘Keep those feelings under wrap.’ Oliver had been trying to not acknowledge the feelings that had resurfaced since he had run into Elio on the street. They harangued him at the worst times- mostly when he had any sort physical contact with Elio. Or when he caught Elio’s eye. Or when he caught of whiff of Elio’s cologne.  
Basically it was all that his brain could think about. It was frustrating and exhilarating. 

The night ended at a small Chinese shop that Oliver had suggested. It was one of his favorite restaurants and the look on Elio’s face when he bit into an eggroll had been magical. 

“Wow, I have never tried something like this before- it is brilliant!” Elio exclaimed. Oliver chuckled and sneaked a bite of the eggroll when Elio wasn’t looking. The insulted look Elio shot him when he realized that Oliver had the audacity to steal some of his food had made him laugh louder than warranted in such a small restaurant. Several customers looked over at their table and shot them perturbed looks at the breaking of relative silence that permeated the restaurant. Elio stifled his laughter when Oliver murmured apologizes to the more annoyed patrons. 

“This was wonderful- thank you for such a great day,” Oliver said as they finished up their dinner. “Though I cannot believe that you know all those great bookstores. I have been here for so many years and I haven’t seen even half of them.” 

Elio just raised his eyebrows and tapped his nose with an amused smile. 

“It’s all who you know,” Elio teased. He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Wow- I cannot believe it is already nine thirty.” 

The waitress dropped off their check and, before Elio could snag the check, Oliver grabbed it. 

“My treat,” Oliver said. He darted to the checkout desk before Elio could protest. He heard Elio squawk of protest and flashed him a grin over his shoulder. 

Elio’s dorm was surprisingly quiet when Oliver walked him to his front door. Oliver felt his hands go clammy when they both paused at the door. Elio shuffled slightly and then surprised Oliver with a brief hug. When he pulled back, Oliver’s eyes darted to Elio’s lips. Oliver was acutely aware that they were in the middle of a New York side walk and not in the streets of Rome. He wished more than anything that he could lean down and press his lips against Elio’s. But, more than anything, he wished that their relationship was what it was back in Italy and he could be free to kiss Elio without it risking their tentative new friendship. 

But then Elio was always the one for surprise and, quicker than he would have liked, Elio pressed a swift kiss to Oliver’s cheek and darted inside before Oliver could even comprehend what had happened.   
Oliver was left standing on the sidewalk, blinking uncomprehendingly, before pressing his hand to his cheek and smiling like a fool. 

‘So perhaps I am not the only one feeling this way,’ Oliver thought elatedly. He knew he would need to make his feet move before he was spotted by some college kid and they called the cops on some man standing outside a college dorm late at night. 

‘So perhaps there is hope after all,’ Oliver thought with a wide grin as he made his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm- sorry for dropping off the grid. I have been in an Infinity War/Marvel/Spiderman wormhole and I couldn't climb out of the hole until now. Hope you guys don't hate me for the long time between updates. I hope y'all like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I haven’t written a fanfiction in almost four years, but after I saw Call Me By Your Name, I couldn’t help myself. It touched my heart and creativity more than anything I have seen in a long time. I was gluten for punishment because I knew how it ended before I started the movie, but I couldn’t help but fall in love with these two characters. I needed to give them a different ending. Because love like that should be explored and not hidden away. I hope to have the next chapter up in a few days, but for now I would like some feedback. I am getting back into my writing grove and would like to hear what you all think!  
> I have a Tumblr if you'd like to follow me on there: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shamelessbingewatcher22


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